The Man Behind The Beast
by TWDGamerKenny'sBro
Summary: People can change, for better and for worse. The Beast went from a sweet, innocent boy to a cruel, uncaring prince, only to then become a hideous monster. But how did this come to be? And how will he change once Belle comes into his life?
1. Prologue

**A/N - Hello everyone.**

 **So after writing those two shorts I decided to do a full blown story, entirely about Beast, before and during the plot of the movie. They'll be flashbacks of his childhood at the start of some chapters, and as the story progresses you'll see how he changed over time. Basically telling two stories at once.**

 **The story will be more based off of the 2017 version, but there will be stuff from the original Disney movie too. I just prefer this portrayal of Beast because there's more of his backstory to work with, you don't learn anything about his family in the original.**

 **Even still, I like both movies a lot.**

 **I hope you enjoy this story. I have 3 chapters stock piled so I'll be posting one per week starting today, so that I can stock pile more in the next 3 weeks.**

 **Let me know what you think.**

* * *

 **Prologue**

His early childhood was a blur. They were distant memories, lost to the passage of time. But there was one day that he could recall rather well, despite all odds. He remembered it rather fondly.

He was four years of age. He had not a care in the world, as he was so young, and had no princely duties to attend to. Instead, he could spend his time running around the castle, or the garden, depending on the weather, or playing with his toys in the playroom. On that particular day, he was chasing one of the royal pooches.

The young prince went charging into the kitchen, in hot pursuit of the dog. The castle staff were hard at work, washing cutlery, chopping vegetables, cooking food.

The dog and the young prince dove under the middle table, and he was finally able to grab the royal hound and give him a big hug. "Got you!" He exclaimed, giggling uncontrollably. The dog barked and licked his face.

The table cloth was lifted up and the familiar face of Mrs Potts peered down at him "What are you doing under there?" She asked in a surprised tone, even though she had seen him come in.

"I caught Wilfred!" He squeezed the poor dog tighter, practically suffocating him.

"Did you?" She asked "Well then, I think that deserves a treat!" She let the table cloth fall for a moment and walked away. She wasn't gone very long, and returned holding a biscuit, and handed it to him. She always snuck biscuits to him.

"Don't tell anyone I gave this to you." She told him.

The young prince smiled "Thank you Mrs Potts." He said sweetly, nibbling on the biscuit.

"You're welcome deary." She responded, patting him on the head before letting the table cloth fall once more.

Wilfred sniffed at his biscuit as he ate, but he was careful to not let him have a bite. The door leading into the burst open and he saw his mother's shoes, and heard her voice. "Have you seen Adam anywhere?" She asked.

There was silence, but moments later, the table cloth was pulled up and her bright, beaming face appeared. "There you are! Where did you get that biscuit from?" She asked curiously. She obviously knew, but he didn't know that at the time.

He grinned cheekily "It's a secret." He replied.

She outstretched her hand and offered it to him "Come on, I have something to show you."

He almost immediately took hold of it, his tiny hand being engulfed by her's as she helped him out from under the table and led him out of the kitchen, Wilfred excitedly nipping at their feet all the while, as he still wanted to play. Unfortunately for him, the young prince had lost interest, as most children do at that age, so Wilfred eventually gave up and wandered off.

He walked hand in hand with his mother through the castle until they reached a large set of double doors. His mother let go of his hand momentarily to twist the knob and open the doors to reveal what was inside.

Behind the double doors was a large room, every inch covered in swirling patterns painted gold, with crystal chandeliers and unlit wax candles, and large glass windows that allowed sunlight to pour in, causing the room to glisten and shine.

The young prince looked around at the mysterious room with wild and excited eyes "What is this place, mother?" He asked curiously.

"It's a ballroom, sweet pea." She replied "It's been a part of the castle for generations, so I'm told. It's also the same place where your father and I celebrated our wedding."

"What's it used for?" He questioned further.

"For dancing mostly." She told him. "I used to love dancing, I did it all the time." She continued.

"Were you good at it?"

"I liked to think so." She replied. She then lowered herself to his level and whispered in his ear "I can't say the same for your father, though. He has two left feet and stepped on my toes during our wedding dance."

He chuckled at that "Do you think I'd be good at dancing?"

"Oh, I think you'd be brilliant!" She responded, smiling at him and ruffling up his blonde hair.

"Will you teach me?" He requested, taking hold her sleeve and tugging on it "Can you mother? Pretty please?"

"Of course honey." She said. She then glanced around the room for a moment and then looked back at him "I have an idea," she began, edging a little closer to him "Why don't we get the servants to clean this place up a bit, make it look really nice, and have your 5th birthday party in here?" She suggested.

"That's a great idea!" He exclaimed "I'd love to do that, mother."

She rose to her full height and took hold of both his hands "Well then, we better start working on those dance lessons!" She cried, picking him up and twirling him around. They spun around in a circle in the middle of the ballroom, laughing all the while.

For you see, it wasn't catching Wilfred or getting a biscuit off Mrs Potts that made that day so memorable and special. It was the day that he first saw the ballroom, and everything was set in motion. Where he learned how much he loved to dance.

And now, over twenty years later, he was entering that ballroom once again. He had been in the many times before, but this time it was different. It was a big occasion, tomorrow night he was throwing a party, and around thirty or so maidens had been invited. And one of them, one very lucky one, was going to be his wife.

He glanced around the ballroom, with no sense of childlike wonder in his eyes, nor any expression of excitement or joy. The only look on his face was that of disgust.

"Is something the matter, master?" Cogsworth, the head of the household, asked him.

He spun on his heels and gave the servant a scornful look "Yes, there is something the matter!" The Prince exclaimed "The ballroom isn't nearly clean enough!"

"But sir, the servants have been working on it all day." Cogsworth protested.

"Well, their days work is not good enough. Do you want the maidens to think I live in a pig sty?" He questioned, but didn't allow him to answer "Tell them to do it again. I want it spotless."

"Yes master." Cogsworth replied, bowing his head.

"Oh, and tell the staff to bring my throne in here." He added.

"With all due respects, sir, your throne is rather heavy."

"I don't care how heavy it is, I want it putting in the ballroom!"

"Of course, sir." Cogsworth sighed "Where would you like it placing?"

"In front of the two glass doors. It will give me a good view of the maidens. But make sure to consult me about its position before you finish."

Cogsworth simply nodded and took his leave as Lumiere approached him "My Prince." He addressed him before bowing "I was wondering if you wanted me to send out anymore invites, perhaps to some of the people from the nearby village? They are paying for this party after all."

"Absolutely not. I'm not having any of those filthy peasants in my castle. Besides, the only people that are invited to this party are princesses from overseas. I doubt there are any princesses or maidens worthy of my hand wandering around that village anyway." He retorted.

"Will you at least allow my husband to come?" Mrs Potts asked. He hadn't even noticed that she was there.

"Is your husband a member of the castle staff?" He questioned.

"Well, no..." Mrs Potts murmured.

"Then he's not allowed to come. No exceptions."

Defeated, Mrs Potts turned and walked away. The Prince did not dwell on it for very long and took his attention off of her and glanced at Lumiere "See to it that everything runs smoothly. I want tomorrow to be perfect."

That night was going to set everything in motion once more. And years to come, he would be able to look back and remember it clearly, just the same as his earliest and one of his most fondest childhood memories.

Sadly, that night was going to be remembered for all of the wrong reasons.


	2. Chapter 1 - What Lies Within

**Chapter 1 - What Lies Within**

The bright summer sun was beating down on the young prince and his mother as they walked through the garden, passing along several hedge rows and admiring the array of colourful flowers, all of which were in full bloom. The garden was where his mother often dwelled. It was her place. His father disproved of his wife getting hands on with the gardening, mucking around in the soil, as that was the gardener's job, but every so often she would help with planting and was heavily involved with the placement of the flowers.

"What type of flower is that?" The young prince asked curiously, pointing out the specific flower he was looking at.

"That's a tulip." His mother replied. "They were only planted this year."

"Tulip." He repeated out loud, listening to his own voice speak the word. "What about that one?" He asked, pointing at another flower.

"That's a daffodil." She told him.

The two walked through an arch way, which had a group of hunting dog statues placed upon it, all perusing a single, wounded deer. The stone monument had vines growing and spiralling around every column, and from those thorn covered vines grew some pure white flowers.

His mother sat down on the stone bench in the middle and the young prince stood in front of her, glancing around at the flowers. "Oh, oh, I know what type of flower that is, I've seen it before!" He exclaimed excitedly.

"What is it?" His mother asked.

"They're roses!" He shouted.

"That's right!" She replied gleefully. "You're such a clever boy." She said, tickling his stomach. The rose garden was something she took full ownership of, as he was later told, as she was responsible for making it into a rose garden, as it had originally only been a stone structure. If you ever wanted to find his mother, then you would often find her there. Oddly enough, roses weren't her favourite type of flower, in fact, she didn't actually have a favourite, as she had once told him that it was hard for her to pick just one.

He giggled with delight and squirmed as she grabbed hold of him and set him down on her lap. "You know, if you give someone a bouquet of roses, it means that you love them." She explained.

"Has father ever given you a rose?" He asked.

His mother avoided looking at him "No. He hasn't actually given me any flowers." She admitted "But that doesn't matter, because your father loves you and me very much." She quickly added.

"Can I go get one of the roses?" He requested.

"Of course, honey." She replied, letting go of him and allowing him to move away. "Make sure to pick out one that's in full bloom, some of them are starting to wither."

"The petals are turning brown." He stated, commenting on one of the roses.

"That happens to flowers. The gardener will have to come and sort out any that are losing their colour. Or I'll just do it myself." She told him. "Oh, and watch out for thorns." She added.

The young prince approached a rose at the far end of the stone structure, and as carefully as he could possibly be, he wrapped his tiny fingers around the area of the stalk that wasn't covered in thorns and pulled the flower free from the vines.

Clutching the white rose in his hands, he rushed back to his mother. "That is a very lovely rose you have there." She commented. "Who are you going to give that to?"

"You, silly!" He replied, presenting the rose to her.

"Oh, why thank you, kind sir." She responded, putting on a posh voice and pretending that he was a suitor as she took the rose from him. She sniffed the flower and then smiled warmly at him.

"I love you, mother." He whispered softly, embracing her in a hug.

She kissed him on the head "And I love you too." She responded, hugging him tightly, still clutching the white rose.

He had known love once. The love for he had for his mother was powerful, but did not last the test of time. His love died along with her.

* * *

It was time.

The Prince entered the ballroom, adoring an outfit that was riddled with thousands of sparkling sequins that shone brightly in contrast to his attire's black colour, although the stitches and buttons were gold. His eyes were covered with makeup, showing off his features, and his lips had a rosy red tint to them. To finish off his regal look, he had a powdered wig placed atop his head, and the fake hair ran down his back.

He strode across the ballroom confidently and sat down on his throne. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he waited with baited breath for the maidens to come in, so that he could see them for the first time. He could barely contain his excitement. Tonight, he would not only find his bride to be, but he would also fill a void in his life. He had so much, and yet, for the longest time, he felt like he had been missing something. What else could he fill this void with aside from a beautiful woman?

The doors to the ballroom flew open and the maidens shuffled in. The amount of them seemed endless, just when he thought the last one had come in, another followed behind her. Eventually, the last one arrived, and the entire room was filled with three dozen maidens, and the doors to the ballroom were shut.

The Prince admired them for a moment, examined their faces, their pure white dresses, their figures... Such thin waists... And fine curves. He smiled to himself. Did he really have to choose just one?

Well, there was no point wasting time with pleasantries. That would have to come later. He lifted his arm and snapped his fingers, signalling for Madame Garderobe and Maestro Cadenza to start performing. Straight away, the Maestro began planning the piano, and the maidens curtsied to him. He swayed his head to the piano music for a moment, itching to get up and start dancing. He could no longer hold himself back, and got up from his throne, taking slow steps towards the nearest two maidens, as they linked up with each other, lifting their arms and putting their hands together as they moved around in a circle.

The Prince joined hands with the two girls and moved along with them as Madame Garderobe began to sing. He took in their faces, their wide, toothy smiles and shimmering eyes, glistening with hope, perhaps, thinking that they would be the lucky one? How foolish and naive these two were. He still had to make his way round all the girls before he made a decision, and he was already looking elsewhere. They were quite beautiful though, both of them. Maybe he would return later on.

 _Oh, how divine_

 _Glamour, music, and magic combine_

He parted from them, kissing one of the two's hand before slipping away, and joining up with another girl. She wasn't exactly a sight to behold, in fact he barely even looked at her before he moved away once more, and linking up with a third or fourth maiden. He had already lost track.

He grabbed her waist, but he moved his hand ever so slightly downwards, feeling her dress, but also what was hidden beneath it. Their faces were inches apart, he could feel her hot breath as it escaped her lips. Her eyes were wide, but she did not object to being touched in such a way.

 _See the maidens so anxious to shine_

 _Look for a sign that enhances chances_

 _She'll be his special one_

He was in the middle now, surrounded by all of them. He had never been around so many women before, the whole experience was rather... Invigorating. As for which one he would choose, he was still none the wiser. Why did he have to pick one?

He wished he could have all of them. Maybe not permanently, perhaps just for one night. Spend some quality time with a handful up in the west wing... Get to explore a little more.

 _What a display_

 _What a breathtaking, thrilling array_

 _Every prince, every dog has his day_

The maidens swirled around him, each one coming up to him, catching a brief glimpse of their face before they disappeared into the sea of white. He spun round as they kept dancing around him, approaching him, with rosy cheeks and beaming smiles. One second before another showed up, yearning for his attention, hungry for his eyes to land on her, to acknowledge her. Their faces barely stayed with him, he couldn't hang on to the memory for long, as each moment was so short, if he were to blink, he would surely miss one.

They were like doves, flocking around an attractive male, wanting to mate.

He had grown tired of being in the middle. He moved to the edge and moved along it as the maidens passed by, dancing round the room.

It was starting to get a little overwhelming. How could he find his princess if he barely saw any of them?

So far, he had not even felt a single spark. He thought that is what would happen, that he would feel something, perhaps when he touched hands, or stated into their eyes. But he didn't feel anything.

 _And I'll sing with passion, gusto, fit to bust_

 _Oh, not a care in the world!_

Suddenly, there was a loud, almost rheumatic banging, that startled everyone in the room. The music stopped and the girls paused. He spun around just as the double glass doors burst open, and the wind howled, extinguishing the candles and plunging them into darkness.

Damp, autumn leaves blew in, scattering across the floor, as a hunched over figure hobbled passed his throne, draped in a tattered cloak and carrying a worn, wooden stick.

The maidens screamed and retreated to the other end of the room in fear as the figure seemed to collapse in front of his throne, perhaps in exhaustion.

There didn't seem like there was much to be scared of, the intruder was probably just one of the peasants from the nearby village, who thought that it was their right to come to his party. How could the guards have let someone barge in? They had one job, and they couldn't even do that. Not only that, but no one dared to venture near the mysterious figure. He rolled his eyes. If you want something doing, you have to do it yourself.

He snapped his fingers and Lumiere brought him a lit candle. With the candlestick in hand, the Prince approached the intruder and held the flame close to them, near enough to illuminate their face. Underneath the hood was a withered, wrinkled, ugly old hag.

He grimaced at her hideous appearance.

"Please..." She croaked, her voice feeble and trembling "Please, will you let me stay here... Just for one night... There's a terrible storm, and I will catch my death out there."

He scoffed "And why would I let someone like you stay here?" He questioned.

"I don't have any money but... I have this rose. Will you take this in exchange for shelter?" She asked, presenting a red rose to him.

He stared at the rose for a moment, and then at her face, her sorrowful eyes, and the wisps of grey hair that weren't covered by the hood.

And then he burst out laughing.

He turned to the maidens, he also started to laugh. They cackled and screeched, snorted and chuckled at the old woman. But not a single one of them understood why it was even funny. They were probably only doing it to impress him.

He turned back to the old woman and snatched the rose off of her. He examined it more closely, admiring its blood red petals that were in full bloom. He had seen many roses just like it, it was nothing special, certainly not worth letting her stay.

He leaned closer to her, and caught a whiff of her filth. The smell almost made his eyes water and make him physically gag. "I wouldn't let someone as hideous as you stay here no matter what you offered me." He whispered, before throwing the rose back at her.

The old woman stared at the rose, and then looked up at him, her brow knitted with anger. "You shouldn't be deceived by appearances... For beauty is found within." She warned. Her voice sounded stronger now.

"What are you babbling about? Why are you even still here? You're not welcome." He dismissed her. "Now leave, before I order my guards to drag you out of here."

A light breeze rushed over his shoulder, moving his wig and snuffing out the candle. He glanced at the wick, a trail of smoke beginning to rise. He then glanced back at the old woman. Did she do that? But how could she?

She lowered her head, the hood casting a shadow over her face as she picked up the rose. A bright, golden glow emerged from the cloak as the old woman began to rise, whilst a strong wind began to whip up and swirl around the room.

The cloak fell to the ground and the old woman's haggard appearance melted away to reveal a beautiful, young woman, surrounded by a golden aura. She looked like an angel.

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. His jaw dropped and fell to his knees in front of her. He heard the maidens scream, and he glanced over his shoulder to see them running out of the ballroom as fast as they could, fleeing for their lives.

He was awe struck. He could barely speak. "M-my apologies for my earlier behaviour, I- I did not realise that you were so... Incredibly beautiful."

"It's too late to ask for forgiveness, for I have seen you for who you truly are." She responded. "It would seem that you have lost your way. You have become selfish, cruel and unkind. There is no love in your heart."

She paused for a moment, her gaze cold and menacing "You have fooled many people with your beauty, the same way that I fooled you. I think the best punishment for what you have done, not just for tonight, would be to change your appearance to match the ugliness that lies within you."

"Wait-" he began, but the words became lodged in his throat, with only air escaping his lips. He couldn't speak, like the ability had been ripped from him.

She lifted the rose and pointed it at him, almost as if she were flicking a wand.

It was barely noticeable at first. He could feel a sort of tingling sensation on his face. But then it grew worse, it felt like his face was made of clay, being moulded and reshape by invisible hands.

A surge of immense pain rushed through him. Every fibre of his being felt like it was on fire, from his feet, all the way up to behind his eyes. He heard a crack and a snap as his body began to contort and change, bones moving and snapping, being locked into new places, muscles expanding.

He screamed in agony as another surge of pain rushed through him, even worse than the last. There was something inside his head, two somethings in fact, trying to force their way to the surface, burst out of the skin, but he didn't know what they were. He had the same feeling down at his lower back.

He heard fabric rip and tare. His body was trembling violently, as wave after wave of pain crashed on top of him. Everything was spiralling out of control, he could barely think, barely focus, barely even keep his eyes open. His mind was screaming, telling himself to close his eyes and will the whole experience to be over. He had never wished death upon himself until now. The only thought that he could muster was that death would be less painful than this.

His screams were replaced by that of a wounded animals' cry. But where was it coming from? Was it... No, it wasn't possible.

And then it stopped. For a moment, the pain washed away, and he felt weightless, like he was floating on a body of water.

He looked at the what he now knew was an enchantress. Her mouth was moving, but what she was saying didn't seem to register. His ears were ringing, a loud noise was blaring inside his mind. He opened his mouth to say something but the only thing that escaped his lips was a croak.

The exhaustion and strain consumed him and he fell face down. The last thing he remembered was colliding with the floor before he blacked out.

* * *

 **A/N - I hope you liked the inclusion of the prologue scene from the movie. I had to do most of it from memory. It took a while of consulting the internet to make sure I got it generally right, beside my own additions. I made the Prince a sort of playboy as that was where the movie seemed to be going with him before they completely dropped it. Treating women like objects, wanting to have 'his way' with a few of them. Helps to lead up to his downfall.**

 **I also hope you liked the description of the transformation. As the story is mostly his perspective, so the narrator isn't all knowing and only really knows what he is thinking, I decided to go in the direction of avoiding describing the transformation from an outside perspective, but rather his own. There are hints towards the growth of the horns and tail in there, of course, and you can gather what is going on. I like leaving it up to the imagination, as that is what the movie did, and I really liked that direction.**

 **Next chapter we'll be getting into the what happened during the time skip. I won't be covering the full ten or so years or however long it was, as that will take a very long time to get to when Belle arrives at the castle. Instead, they'll be time skips, within the time skip. The time skips will be varying, some will be days, some can be a year or two. It's all about progression of story.**

 **Anyway, I shall see you all in a week!**


	3. Chapter 2 - Waking Up

**Chapter 2 - Waking Up**

At the age of five, the young Prince was light on his feet and well on his way to becoming an excellent dancer. He was very smart for his age, and learning fast. His mother was immensely proud and was convinced that as he grew and learnt more, he would accomplish great things. For his birthday, which had been in the ballroom, he had been given a story book, filled with colourful illustrations and countless fairy tales.

He asked his mother if she would read it to him in bed the night he got it, and she was happy to oblige. And she continued to read that same book of fairy tales to him every night.

One night, at the dinner table, just before his bath and bed time, his mother asked "Would you like me to read something different to you tonight?"

The young Prince didn't even take a second to think before answering "No thank you, mother. I love listening to you read the fairy tales." He replied sweetly.

His father, who was sitting at the far opposite end of the table, and a rather large distance from the two of them, scoffed audibly.

His mother frowned at his father, but he took no notice as he continued eating. The young Prince didn't seem to notice either, his naive child mind had assumed that his father was having trouble swallowing his food.

"Perhaps when you're a little older you can try reading that book to me." She suggested, shifting her attention off her husband and back onto her son.

"I'd like that." He agreed "It's my favourite book."

"Really? I didn't realise!" his mother joked.

He giggled "What's your favourite book, mother?"

"My favourite book? Hmm... Well, it would definitely have to be Guinevere and Lancelot." She replied.

"King Arthur and the Round Table." His father corrected her from across the table.

"Well, yes, but the romance between Guinevere and Lancelot makes up most of it." She responded to him.

"I don't like that book all that much."

"Of course you wouldn't." She replied, somewhat harshly.

"It's a love story?" The young Prince chimed in.

"It certainly is." She told him. "I think you would like it very much."

"If you like it then I think I'll like it too!" He exclaimed. It was true, he liked most things that his mother liked, as he was so close to her. "Will you read it to me?"

"I'd love to. In fact, I'll teach you how to read it and then we can take turns reading a few chapters to each other."

"You'll ruin that boy." His father commented. "You should be reading educational books to him, not fairy tales and nonsense."

"'That boy'? Have a bit more respect for your son." She retorted. "And besides, he's only five. He can start reading educational books when he's older."

"He should start young. That's how I did it."

"Well he's not you, is he?"

"Please don't fight." The young Prince butted in once again.

"Oh we're not honey. Your father and I just can't agree on how we should be teaching you. But don't you worry about it, we'll figure it all out. We have plenty of time, as you're still growing!"

"He'll stop growing if he doesn't eat his vegetables." His father commented rather dryly.

"He's right. Go on, eat up." She coaxed him in to carrying on with his dinner.

The young Prince sighed. He hated the vegetables. He'd try sneaking some to Wilfred if his mother wasn't watching him. He picked up his fork and began prodding them. After a few minutes of silence while he poked his vegetables, and his parents continued eating, the young Prince spoke up once more, after his mind had been allowed wander and think about his fairy tale filled book.

"Mother..." He began, catching her attention.

"Yes dear?"

"Are the stories from my book real?" He asked.

"Don't be ridiculous." His father interrupted.

His mother scowled at him, scalding her husband with a glare "Ignore your father. There is some truth behind some stories, so if you think those stories are real, then you might just be right."

"So magic could be real? And wizards and witches and fairies?"

"Don't forget woodland pixies!"

"You're filling his head with nonsense." His father stated gruffly.

She ignored him and stroked her son's blonde hair "Pay no attention to him, Adam. Your father's just grumpy after a long day of royal duties." She told him, turning to look at her husband.

His father did not respond, instead, he placed down his cutlery, wiped his mouth with a napkin and proceeded to withdraw from the dining room "Enjoy your bed time story, Adam" he said as he exited.

Magic was one of the first things his father made him stop believing in. There were many other things that he had once loved that he now deemed as childish and silly, after his father twisted his view of the world.

But perhaps, after coming face to face with the Enchantress, he would start believing in the existence of magic once more.

* * *

Darkness. A never ending void of black, created by his tightly closed eyelids.

He felt numb. He could barely feel anything, not his body, not the space around. Nothing.

Where was he? He remembered dancing with the young maidens and then... And then something happened. Why couldn't he remember?

His head hurt. At least he was starting to regain some feeling, slowly but surely. It wasn't a welcoming feeling, but he'd take it nonetheless. He opened his eyes, fluttering his eyelids briefly. His vision was blurred, the only thing he could see was a sort of... Greyness. He then came to realise that he was lying down, his face pressed against the cold, marble floor.

He must have collapsed. But why?

He pushed himself off the ground so that he was kneeling. Dazed and confused, he glanced around, noticing that he was still in the ballroom. The only difference was that it was absent of people, and the candles on the chandeliers had been snuffed out. His only source of light was the pale, silver moon that he could see through the windows.

A chill ran down his spine. The double doors behind his throne were wide open, allowing rain to pour in, and gusts of wind to blow in brown, autumn leaves.

Aside from the raging storm outside, the room was deathly silent.

The pain was what hit him first. The numbness faded, and he suddenly found himself in excruciating agony, and keeled over. His head throbbed, and his body felt like it was being struck by thousands of arrows that would pierce his flesh. It all started to come flooding back to him, the old woman, the rose, the beautiful enchantress and then...

There was something she had said to him, but at the time he hadn't been able to take it all in. Her angelic voice and words seemed to echo in his mind, but he couldn't make out what the words meant. They just sounded like a quiet, lingering whisper, which he couldn't focus on due to all of the pain he was experiencing.

He remembered experiencing the same amount of pain that same night, before he had passed out. But what he had gone through was much worse than what he was going through now. It had been agonising. In that moment, he had wished death upon himself, hoping that it would allow him to escape that hellish nightmare that had unfortunately been his reality.

The pain was starting to subside now. It had come in a short burst, and left as quick as it arrived. Perhaps it had just been an after effect of whatever the enchantress had done to him.

He felt off. Something was definitely wrong with him, but he couldn't figure out what, as he was still coming to his senses.

His head felt heavy, like there was an added weight that was keeping him from lifting it easily. He knew it couldn't be his powdered wig, so what was it?

He lifted his hand to touch the top of his head, but stopped himself halfway way when he caught sight of what should have been his hand. His blood ran cold. What he was looking at was a large paw, covered with thick, brown fur, and had long, sharp claws. He glanced at his other hand, or rather, other paw, only to see that it looked the same.

This wasn't real. It couldn't be.

The thick, brown fur that covered his paw ran up his arm. Worst of all, it didn't stop there, as once he looked down at himself, his fears were realised, as his entire body was covered in the same fur. He was starting to breath heavily now, taking quick, sharp intakes. He had become panic stricken.

Shreds of his clothing hung from his body, while other ripped pieces lay scattered around him. He quickly reached up, trying to avoid looking at his hand - he refused to call it a paw, he wouldn't allow himself to - this time round, and touched his wig, which was sitting skew-whiff on top of his head and threatening to fall off at any given time. That didn't make sense, that wig had been specially made for him and was designed to fit his head and his head alone.

He pulled it off and stared at it for a moment. Why did his head still feel so heavy?! What was going on?!

He dropped the wig and reached up again, his fingers coming into contact something that he could only assume was more fur, which seemed much longer, and ran down to the back of his neck. He then came into contact was something hard.

His eyes widened in shock as he allowed his fingers to trace the foreign object sticking out of his head. He reached up with his other hand and found another just like. Once he had figured out there shape, he soon knew what they were, but he didn't want to believe it.

He wrapped his hands around them both and yanked at them with all his might. It hurt him. He had hoped that by some miracle that they'd come off if he tugged hard enough, but no matter how much he pulled, they simply would not budge.

They were horns. He had horns, two massive horns... Growing out of his head.

This had to be a dream. Any second now, he'd wake up, and it will have all been a figment of his imagination. He refused to believe that any of it was real.

He slowly lowered his hands, trembling with fright as he stared at them. They were... They were paws. He couldn't deny that.

There was something else, something other than the horns that were bugging him. He felt like there was something trailing behind him, but he didn't dare look. He didn't want to explore his body anymore, he just wanted to close his eyes and will this nightmare to be over.

But he had to know. He had to see it, he had to know that what he was assuming was correct. He turned his head slightly and let out a horrified gasp when he caught sight of his new appendage. He had been expecting it, but nothing could have prepared him for that.

He had a tail.

He grabbed hold of it and pulled it closer so that he could examine it briefly. It was definitely a tail, there was no doubt about that. A lion's tail to be precise.

He didn't care what kind of tail it was. He let go of it and turned away. He couldn't bear to look at it anymore.

This... This was insane.

Everything about his body felt so real. Maybe... Maybe it wasn't a dream.

He thought about his face. What had happened to his face? How could he want to and not want to know simultaneously? He felt so conflicted. He was scared. He feared the worst.

"Master?" The familiar voice of Lumiere spoke out "Master, are you alright?" He asked, his voice thick with concern.

He looked up, where he assumed Lumiere would be as he was still knelt on the floor, but he wasn't. "Down here, Master." He beckoned him.

He glanced down, and almost jumped back in shock when he saw a small, somewhat human-looking candlestick staring up at him.

Had he gone mad?

"Master, can you hear me at all?" The candlestick asked. It was definitely Lumiere, he'd know that voice anywhere.

"Lumiere? What happened to you?" He asked. His own voice startled him. It was deeper, gruffer, and there seemed to a growl emitting from his throat. He barely recognised it.

"It was the enchantress, she turned all of the servants into objects, and turned you into-" he stopped himself, refusing to go any further.

He looked around, noticing a clock, feather duster, teapot, teacup, piano, and wardrobe gathered in the far corner of the room. If they were indeed the servants, then why were they still over there? Why was Lumiere the only one who had dared to venture over?

...Were they afraid of him?

That's when he remembered everything that had happened, it hit him like a ton of bricks. The enchantress' voice, whispering in the back of his mind, the words became clear to him. He was taken back to the moment when the transformation was over, when he had collapsed, barely able to remain conscious.

 _Pain rushed through him as he lifted his head to meet eyes with the enchantress. She dropped the rose in front of him, similar to the way he had thrown it back at her when she had the appearance of an old hag._

 _"You have been transformed into a beast." She told him. "The rose I offered you is enchanted. Eventually, it will start to wilt, and the petals will fall. If you can learn to love another and earn their love in return before the last petal falls, the spell will be broken. But if not, then you will be doomed to live as a beast forever."_

 _She paused for a moment, the golden light around her starting to fade "I hope for your sake as well as you servants that you will be able to do so." There was a hint of remorse in her voice._

 _"I've cast a spell on your mirror, it will allow you to see everything your heart desires. It will serve as your window to the outside world. I also bestow upon you this enchanted book. It will allow you to go anywhere in the world and truly allow you to escape."_

 _He opened his mouth, but no words came out._

 _"Don't try to speak. You'll only make things worse." She told him. "I must leave you now. Good luck, young Prince. May we meet again... Someday."_

"Master, is there anything I can do for you?" Lumiere asked, snapping him out of his trance.

He lowered his head and clenched his fist. "Bring me a mirror." He replied, in a low, rumbling growl.

"I don't think that's wise, I think you need to take a minute to think and get your head straight." Lumiere responded, his voice trembling a little.

"I told you to bring me a mirror!" He shouted, scaring the candlestick. "Don't make me ask again." He said, in a quieter tone.

Lumiere hesitated for a moment before walking away. He returned not long after, dragging the Prince's mirror using his wrists, as his hands had been replaced by candles. He put it down in front of him and backed away, giving him some space.

He reached out and grabbed the handle of the mirror, his large paw covering the entire surface. His arm trembled as he held it up, unsure if he should go through with it. He stared at the back of the mirror, unsure if he wanted to turn it around and see his reflection.

He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, calming himself and steadying his arm. In one swift motion, he opened his eyes and flipped the mirror round. What he saw was far worse than he could ever have imagined.

Before the dance, when he had looked in the mirror, the face that he had seen was a young, handsome prince, done up in the finest make up and powdered wig. But the reflection that stared back at him now was that of a monster. A Beast. Brown fur sprouted from every pore on its face. Sharp, hideous fangs stuck out from its closed lips. Its nose was flat, with large pink nostrils, similar to that of a buffalo. The only thing he recognised was its bright blue eyes, that made him fully realise that the monstrous face in the mirror... Was his own.

Beast reached up to touch his face but stopped himself.

Staring at his reflection, he could feel his anger starting to boil over. The monster locked away inside of him rattled in its cage. He snarled, and the image in the mirror took on the form of a crazed animal, his lips curled back to reveal two rows of hideous teeth.

Unleashing his fury, he slammed the mirror against the floor, but surprisingly enough it did not shatter.

Beast attempted to rise, but his feet, or rather paws, slipped on the marble floor. It took a great amount of effort, but eventually, he managed to stand up. He swayed for a moment, as his balance was completely off. His legs threatened to buckle underneath him and his bulky physique. He didn't realise how tall he was now until he stood at his full height.

He glanced down at himself, noticing the shreds of his ballroom attire still clinging to his body. He then looked at Lumiere, who was staring up at him with an expression of pure horror. His oldest friend... Was afraid of him.

Beast turned and ran out of the room. He bounded upstairs, falling onto his front paws on the way up. Instead of correcting himself, he continued to scramble upwards on all fours, towards the west wing, to his room. He had to get away. He couldn't let his servants see him like this. He couldn't bear it.

He burst through the door to his room, put himself in an upright position and slammed the door behind him. Breathing heavily, he turned, only to be greeted by his monstrous face, which he could see in the mirror hanging across the room.

He slowly approached the mirror, that gave him a clear view of his head and upper body. The horns that he had traced with his fingers earlier resembled that of a goat, or perhaps an antelope.

He stared at his face once more. There was a look of sorrow in those human eyes. Those same eyes stung, and he quickly blinked back the tears. He turned away from the mirror, only to be greeted by his old face. There was a portrait of him on the wall. The artist had captured his likeness so perfectly.

He stared at his portrait and then back at the mirror. He then looked at the portrait again, at his too-human looking face. Those bright blue eyes stared down at him, mocking him.

He let out an angered cry, that sounded more like a roar as it escaped his lips. He raised his paw and raked his claws across the portrait, tearing through the canvas.

He glanced back at the mirror once more, reaching up and taking hold of the remaining pieces of his ballroom attire and ripping it off of his body and throwing it to the ground. Enraged by his appearance, he charged at the mirror, punching it, cracking the surface. Using his claws, he pulled the shards from the frame, piece by piece, until he could no longer see his reflection.

Still seething with rage and looking for something else to take his anger out on, his eyes scanned the room, noticing that there were more portraits hanging from the walls. Why were there so many?! Did he really love himself that much?

He stomped towards a family portrait, and stared at the picture of himself. The young, innocent boy posing alongside his parents had been a ghost to his former self, and more so now. It had been a long time since that face had stared back at him in the mirror. It seemed like another life, a completely different person. He wondered what his younger self would think if he saw how he turned out. He would be horrified.

His claws glided through the canvas far too easily.

The former Prince looked up at the image of his father, the King, captured in a moment where he wasn't angry or utterly disappointed. He looked down at himself once more, at the thick fur that now covered his body and the massive claws on the end of his fingers. Is this what his father wanted?

No. Not by a mile.

He didn't want to be reminded of how much of a failure he was.

He clawed his father's face out of the picture, so that he'd no longer have to look at his judgemental eyes. He then lifted his paw once again but stopped himself when he saw his mother's face, her bright blue eyes that matched his. No, not her, she had done nothing wrong. She didn't deserve to be defaced. She had delayed the inevitable, kept him pure, given him a happy childhood for as long as possible. He thanked her for that.

Beast staggered backwards, his anger beginning to subside. Seeing his mother's face had calmed him. He looked over to the balcony, and saw the rose the enchantress had left him, on a pedestal, surrounded by a glass case. She must have put it there, for safe keeping perhaps. Or maybe just to torment him more, as he'd be able to see it from his bed, so he would wake up to that sight every morning. A constant reminder of the curse besides his own body.

He walked up to it and placed his paw on top of the case. He stared at the rose, its red petals in full bloom. He could already picture them falling off, one by one.

He touched his face, running his fingers down it. He already missed it, his old appearance. He wanted it back more than anything. How would he ever be able to return to his human form? Who could ever love him like this?

Would he ever be human again? Or was he truly doomed to live as a beast... Forever?

He looked around the room at the broken mirror and ripped portraits. What had he done? What was he turning into? He sank to his knees and cradled his head in his paws, ashamed of his appearance. Ashamed of the Beast that he had already become.

* * *

 **A/N - If you've read those two shorts I wrote a few weeks ago that I titled 'Beast Shorts' (creative name, I know) then you've probably noticed that this chapter is one of those shorts, reworked to fit into this story, with several additions. Not much needed tweaking as I thought it seemed rather fitting on its own, and I had this type of story in mind for it when I was writing that short. The only differences are the flashback at the beginning (the fairy tale book is going to be important later, or at least be apart of the plot), the ripping of the family portrait, and less exposition in the tiny flashback to the Enchantress.**

 **So I've been looking at my story plan and there's going to be around 10 to 15 chapters before Belle arrives at the castle. I won't be including boring bits like 'what Beast had for breakfast one morning' or 'how Beast goes about brushing his teeth' (though I don't think he ever did brush them). My number one rule for myself is that something meaningful needs to happen for a chapter to even be made. Oh and once we reach the plot of the movie, it won't be the exact same thing, word for word. That would be predictable. And you could just go watch the movie instead of just reading it in story form. I want to develop some ideas and scenes presented in the film, change dialogue, make an even bigger connection between Beast and Belle. I look forward to showing it to you.**

 **But until then we have 10 to 15 chapters of character development! I don't intend to drag it on for too long so it will probably be closer to 10 chapters. Probably an uneven number like 11.**

 **Let me know what you think of this chapter and I shall see you next week!**


	4. Chapter 3 - Edge of Despair

**Chapter 3 - Edge of Despair**

The family portrait was something he and his mother had fought for.

At one point, when he had still been quite young, his mother had shown him the portraits of the old kings, his grandfather and great grandfather and so on and so forth. She had also shown him a picture of his father, standing tall and proud, with a crown comfortably resting on his head.

But what she had really wanted to show him was a portrait of his mother and father together along with the young Prince as a small, practically new born baby.

She told him that one day his portrait would be hung up along with all of the others. But he hadn't been interested in that, as he was more concerned about getting a more up to date family portrait. His mother agreed that they should have a new one painted, but his father was reluctant and rejected the idea, stating that he was too young and wouldn't be able to sit still for it to work.

His father didn't like portraits. Correction, he didn't like portraits that weren't of just him. He was so vain and self-centred, that he didn't want his young, playful, hyperactive son to ruin his image.

It took several years before his father decided to get a painter to make a new version.

The Prince had been eight at the time of its completion. However, it wasn't long after the portrait was finished and hung up with the others that his mother's health started to deteriorate.

He had it moved into his room when he was much older, so that he'd have an image of his mother, captured in a moment where she was in perfect health. Where she looked truly alive.

That portrait had meant a lot to her, as well as himself. And in an instant, he had destroyed it. He had almost torn her face out of it. He would never have forgiven himself if he had gone through with it.

That night, he had strayed even further from the son she had wanted him to be.

* * *

He was cold when he awoke.

For a moment, he had forgotten where he was. But it all came quickly flooding back to him as he took in his surroundings.

He was slumped down on the stone balcony, resting against the pedestal that the enchanted rose was placed on. He must have fallen asleep in that position, after he had destroyed some of his belongings in a blind rage.

He didn't recall falling asleep. He wasn't even sure how he had managed to, when he was sitting down like that, his pillow made of stone.

He was still rather tired and groggy, plus he was rather sore, from sleeping in that position. He absentmindedly lifted his hand, or paw, and rubbed his eye, and nearly ended up stabbing himself with his claw.

He grunted in dismay. He had hoped that it would have all turned out to have been a dream. Sadly, that was only wishful thinking. The fur that covered his arm, and the claws that had nearly poked his eye out confirmed that it was all too real.

He wondered why he was so cold. He glanced at his shoulder, and noticed that he was covered in a thick layer of snow, which had collected on him during the night. That's what he got for sleeping outside, exposed to the elements.

Snow? But... It was early autumn. It wasn't nearly cold enough for it to be snowing.

He assumed that this must be part of the curse. The Enchantress must have plunged the castle into an eternal winter.

He had never liked winter. Summer has always been his favourite season, the long, hot days where he could spend his time outside, enjoying the sun.

Were there any other ways that the Enchantress wanted to punish him?

He brushed the snow off his shoulders and head. He then attempted to rise, using the pedestal as leverage to hoist him onto his feet. He then used it as a crutch when he almost toppled over.

His centre of balance was still completely off, he wasn't used to the amount of muscle mass that had been added to his torso, not to mention he was ten, maybe even more, inches taller.

He wondered if his new body would allow him to stand on two legs, or if it was more built to be on all fours. The night before, when he had fell forwards on the stairs, it had almost felt... Natural. He had covered more ground in a short amount of time compared to being on two legs. The speed was remarkable. He hadn't really thought about it till now.

He shook his head and pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind. He would not allow himself to behave like an animal. He was still human on the inside, despite his exterior, and he would walk on two legs, no matter how hard and wrong it felt.

He pushed himself off the pedestal and began to take short, heavy, lumbering steps across the room towards his bed. Why was a simple thing like walking such an ordeal? He was worried that his legs would threaten to buckle underneath him. Thankfully, they didn't and he reached the bed without much of a problem.

He allowed himself to fall face first onto the bed, becoming enveloped by the wine red sheets.

Why was he so tired? Had the transformation really taken so much out of him?

Perhaps he would lay there for a while, give himself some time to fully recover. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to do anything.

His stomach gurgled but he ignored it. If he wanted to eat, he'd have to go downstairs, and that would mean he'd have to face the servants. He wasn't ready for that. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be ready.

He wondered what would happen, if he allowed himself to go days without food. Would the amount of muscle mass he had gained deteriorate? Or was that not possible due to the curse?

Would he even be able to starve himself? Or would hunger and instinct take over and drive him out into the woods, where he could hunt down and kill a deer or some other poor inspecting animal?

Was there some sort of animal instinct lurking away inside him? What would cause that to consume his mind and push away any rational thought?

His mind wandered back to the idea of killing an animal. He couldn't imagine himself doing that, not with his bare hands anyway. He did seem capable of it now, with his fangs and claws but... He didn't want to go down that path. He wasn't an animal. Not on the inside. He had to keep telling himself that. He wanted to believe it so badly.

His train of thought went onto his body. Although he hated thinking about it, his appearance seemed to be made up of a combination of different animals.

Although he had never seen any of them up close, he had read about them and seen pictures of them in numerous books. Lion, bear, gorilla, gazelle, buffalo... They all added up to what he now looked like.

He decided not to go any further. He didn't want to examine his body, or try and dissect some information. He wanted to detach himself from it as much as possible.

But that wasn't going to happen.

Why was he even bothering to think so much about this? He was supposed to be resting, both his body and mind. He needed to sleep, he needed to regain some energy, so that he wouldn't feel like dead weight.

Lying down, his face pressed into the sheets, his barely conscious mind thinks of her.

He was reminded of her aroma first. He could even smell it, the scent overwhelming his nostrils. Strawberries, no peaches, no... He couldn't quite narrow it down. He had never known the distinct fragrance of her perfume, perhaps it was the scent of a fruit, or maybe a flower of some kind.

"You can't keep feeling sorry for yourself, Adam." Her soft, comforting, pleasing voice told him. "You have to be strong."

Had she ever said that to him? He couldn't recall. Maybe he was just making it up in his head, putting her voice to words that she might have said.

He pushed himself up, the light assaulting his eyes as he looked over his shoulder.

And there she was, sitting at the end of the bed. His mother.

She didn't look the same as she did when he had last saw her. The woman that had been lying on her death bed had pale grey skin, and had been made up of mostly flesh and bone. She had barely been able to keep her eyes open. She had seemed so fragile, that she might crumble into dust by mere touch. That had not been his mother. That was a shadow of her former self.

The woman that sat on his bed now was her. She was wearing a green dress, with her hands neatly placed on her lap. Her long, wavy blonde hair flowed down her back and passed her shoulders. His father had liked it when she had it done up, but he himself had always preferred it when she wore it down, like his own, as she had always tried to put his rather long hair into a pony tail, but never succeeded, his golden locks were untameable. His father always said that his hair should be cut shorter, and his mother would call him a hypocrite, as her husband often wore long wigs. But he was going off on a tangent now.

Her cheeks were rosy red and her blue eyes twinkled and shimmered, full to the brim with life. The corners of her mouth were wrinkled as her lips were curled into a warm smile.

This was his mother. This was how he always pictured her, remembered her.

He sat up and drew closer to her. He knew that the illusion would not last long if he kept his eyes open, so he closed them tightly as he reached out to her. And for a moment, just a moment, he could hold her in his arms, run his fingers through her hair, and feel her warmth. And if he tried hard enough, he could almost hear her soothing heartbeat.

And then she was gone. His arms were empty and he was alone.

He opened his eyes and stared at the empty spot where he had pictured her. There were no crease marks on the sheets, no shape left behind on the bed. She had never been there. She had never been real.

He looked over at the family portrait, at his mother's face.

Why did she return to him now?

He hadn't thought about her in years, at least not that much. Memories of her would come and go. They were fleeting. He had dreams about her in the past, but they had become rare and far between.

He wondered what his real mother would think, if she saw him like this. Not his image of her, not the one that he placed on a pedestal, that he thought was perfect in every possible one. The one that had died when he was only ten years old.

Would she still love him, smile at him, embrace him like she did in his imagination? Or would she be terrified, and wouldn't listen to him explain that despite his monstrous appearance, it was still him. That he was still her son.

He hoped that if she were here it would be the former. But if he were to be realistic, it would probably be the latter.

Does a mother's love know any bounds?

He lay down once more, this time on his back, and stared at the ceiling.

After all this time... He still found himself missing her.

How did he manage to remember her so vividly, that his half asleep brain could conjure up an illusion that he could feel in his grasp, just for a few seconds?

He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. His breath shook. It had only been a day and already he was starting to lose it.

There was a knock on his bedroom door.

His face wrinkled up into a frown. It was probably the servants, coming to check on him. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? He didn't want to be bothered.

The door knocker was persistent, and continued to bang on the door.

"What do you want?!" He shouted. He had forgotten what his voice sounded like now, as he hadn't breathed a word since last night. It was strange, how different his voice was now. It didn't sound right, to his ears. It sounded like someone else, and not himself.

The door was pushed open slightly and Lumiere, the talking candlestick, poked his head into the room.

"Forgive me for the intrusion, master, we just wanted to talk to you."

It was rather jarring, hearing Lumiere's voice coming out of a walking candle. It would definitely take him a long time to adjust to that, amongst other things.

Beast sat up and rubbed the back of his head, his claws getting caught in the mane-like fur that ran down his neck to his upper back. "Who's we?" He questioned.

With a grunt of effort, Lumiere pushed the door open fully and allowed other objects to enter the room.

The clock was most likely Cogsworth, and the teapot and tea cup were Mrs Potts and her son, Chip. The flying feather duster was probably Lumiere's lover - what was her name...? It didn't seem to click in his head. Plumette, that's what it was. Well, it might have been her, there were quite a few maids so it was hard to distinguish between them. He often wondered why Lumiere was so in love with her. He had more often than not had to tell them to get off each other and remain professional. Personally he hated seeing other people happy and in love, when he had neither of those things.

It was ironic, that the servants had been turned into house hold objects that they most commonly used. He'd find it funny, if the circumstances were different.

He took hold of the bed frame and pulled himself to his feet. "Come to get a good look at the Beast, have you?" He asked gruffly.

"What? No, no of course not. We just have some important matters that we want to discuss with you." Lumiere replied.

He walked around the bed, dragging his feet as he approached them, his claws clattering against the floor. "What's so important that you felt the need to interrupt me when I'm still recovering from the whole ordeal?" He snarled.

"With all due respect, master, the servants are restless. They're confused, scared, they don't know what to do. They need someone to put their minds at rest, give them some hope. And since this is your castle and you're the prince, we thought... Well, we thought it would be best if you did it." Mrs Potts explained.

"Hope? What hope could I possibly give them when I look like this?! Why would they want to listen to me, I would terrify them even more!" He retorted. "Besides, Cogsworth is the head of the household, he can do it."

"Me?! B-b-but master-" Cogsworth stammered.

"But what?!"

"N-n-nothing, nothing at all." The talking clock replied fearfully.

"Master, the servants won't listen to Cogsworth. They want to hear from you, they want to know what you've got planned, how you are going to fix this." Lumiere butted in.

"I don't have anything planned. What do you want me to do? Go out there and drag a young maiden back here, make her fall in love with me?! That's never going to work!" He shouted, pacing up and down the room, causing a spark of unrest amongst the servants. "There's nothing I can do to fix this. I have nothing." He murmured, taking on a softer tone.

Mrs Potts opened her mouth to say something but Lumiere lifted his hand- candlestick- and silenced her. "You're clearly distressed. We shall give you some more time, maybe in a few days it will start to look a little better."

"How could it possibly get better?" Beast questioned.

"A lot can change in a few days. Just know that we're here, if you need anything. And if you're not ready to come downstairs, then we will bring you some food up."

Beast simply grunted in acknowledgement and turned away.

"Before we go, we brought up the enchanted mirror for you, in case you want to use it." Lumiere added, pointing at the mirror that one of them must have dragged up there. It was lying face down.

"Why would I want to use it? Why would I want to look at my reflection? I have it burned enough into my mind as it is."

"Oh, I didn't mean using it to look at yourself, I meant using it to look at the outside world."

"Again, why would I want to use it? Why would I want to see the outside world through a looking glass when I could be out there exploring it for myself if I wasn't trapped in this hideous body?!" He exclaimed.

The servants were starting to retreat now, inching over to the door "Well, we'll leave it here, just in case you change your mind."

And with that, they dashed away, the door slamming shut behind them.

"What are we going to do about him?" He heard one of them say.

Beast debated on whether or not he should open the door and yell at them for talking about him like he couldn't hear. He ultimately decided not to.

He glanced down at the mirror that was lying face down. In fear that he might lose balance and fall flat on the floor, he carefully knelt down and picked up the mirror with his large paw.

He stood up, and was thankful that he wasn't as uneasy on his feet compared to the last time. He then dumped the mirror beside the enchanted rose, intending on never picking it up again.

The Enchantress had mentioned something about an enchanted book as well. He wasn't sure where it was located, and frankly he didn't care. The idea of using it to go somewhere else in the world, when he looked like a monster, appalled him. Where in the world could he go where he wouldn't be feared?

All these 'gifts' she had bestowed upon him with were just cruel tricks. He'd rather have his old appearance, his freedom, than to have something to compensate for it.

His thoughts returned to the servants. Lord knows what they must think of him.

He wondered if he'd be able to spy on them, perhaps sneak downstairs and listen in to their conversation about him, like he did when he was younger. When he was a child, he would peak through key holes, listen through the crack of an open door. He couldn't help himself back then, plus it was easy to go unseen when you are so small.

Then again, he couldn't exactly sneak anywhere when his footsteps were so heavy due to how much weight was behind them, not to mention his claws clattered against the floor. They'd hear him coming a mile away.

He glanced back at the mirror, and started to feel mildly curious. Perhaps he could use it, just for a few seconds, to see what they had to say.

He shook his head and turned his back on the mirror. No, he wasn't going to use it. He didn't want to risk seeing his awful face. Besides, they were merely servants, practically peasants, why would their opinions matter to him?

He was about to walk away but hesitated. On the other hand, he had known them his whole life... He wanted to know if they thought of him any differently now.

Eventually, curiosity overpowered him. He approached the pedestal and picked up the mirror. He avoided making eye contact with his reflection as he attempted to get it to work.

At first, he thought that perhaps it would be able to read his mind. But when nothing happened, he assumed that he had to speak his request out loud. "Show me the servants."

The mirrors surface rippled like the surface of a lake and he gazed into it as an image of the servants gathered together by the fire was revealed to him.

"It's hopeless. We'll never get through to him." Cogsworth sighed.

"We can't give up, not yet. It's only been a day, and none of the petals have fallen yet. We have time to turn this around." Lumiere responded.

"What are we going to tell all the other servants? Not all of them were present in the ballroom at the time, so they don't have clue what's going on." Plumette asked.

"We'll spread the word, go around everyone and let them know what is going on." Lumiere replied. "Hopefully, the master will eventually come down and put everyone's mind at rest. At least, as best as he can."

"Mama, why is that woman punishing us? Did I do something wrong?" Chip asked.

"Of course not, Chip. You didn't do anything wrong." Mrs Potts replied, nestling close to her son.

"Maybe she wanted to ensure our loyalty. I doubt that many of us would have stayed if we were still human." Lumiere suggested.

"I would have stayed with him." Cogsworth stated boldly.

"You would have run away at the first sign of trouble!" Lumiere barked.

"No I would not! I'm not a coward!" Cogsworth retorted.

"I don't think that's it." Mrs Potts interrupted. "I think we're being punished because we're partly to blame for how he turned out. When push came to shove, we did nothing to help him when his father started raising him. Even now, we've still done very little. We didn't defend him when the Enchantress started accusing him, didn't go to him after he transformed. Can any of us honestly say that we did all we could to prevent him from becoming so cruel?"

The servants lowered their heads, or bodies, or just simply cast their eyes downward in shame.

"No. We definitely could have done more." Lumiere admitted.

"We should have." Mrs Potts replied. "But we can do something now. I know that somewhere, deep down, that sweet innocent lad is still there."

"I doubt that we could ever return him to how he was." Cogsworth said.

"Maybe not, but there has to be some good in him, we just have to bring it out." Mrs Potts stated.

"Agreed. No woman will ever fall for him for his appearance but perhaps he could woe her with kindness." Lumiere suggested. "It's the only plan we've got, so we have to fight for this, we have to snap him out of it."

"Yes, because if we don't..." Mrs Potts paused for a moment and a pained expression appeared on her face "I'm afraid we might lose him."

Without warning, the image of the servants faded, and for a brief second he caught a glimpse of his face. He winced and averted his eyes, whilst covering the surface of the mirror with his paw. It hurt to look at it. He quickly flipped the mirror over and placed it face down on the pedestal once more.

'Lose him' what exactly did they mean by that?

He had a rough idea, perhaps they thought that he'd want to end his suffering quickly rather than wait for the inevitable, where he would be trapped like this forever. But he wasn't even sure if his body was capable of taking harm, or so much as dying. He also wasn't that far gone.

Or perhaps they feared that he'd become a beast on the inside as well as the outside.

He didn't have much left to lose. What did he have? His servants, his castle... But still having the castle wasn't exactly comforting. It was starting to feel more like a prison than a home.

He could feel himself already slipping. Maybe he had already lost apart of himself, by tearing up the family portrait, by allowing his anger to spiral out of control. He never remembered being so angry before in his life.

What would push him to the edge, to where all hope would die? Maybe he was a lot closer than he originally thought.

Who would be there to pull him back from the point of no return?

* * *

 **A/N - I put a lot of thought into how Beast would feel sort of 'the morning after'. I wanted to get across how much of a strain the sudden alteration of his entire body and species would have on him physically and mentally. I wanted to get across his emotional state too, it's rather fragile after the ordeal, (his thought process is important to me) he's questioning himself, what he's capable of, if there's something animalistic lurking inside of him that he isn't aware of, he's even hallucinating.**

 **On the subject of that, I'm aware that when his mother was lying sick in bed, she had brown hair. But in the portrait, as well as a deleted scene from 'Days in the Sun', she had blonde hair, so I gave Beast's illusion of her blonde hair, as its another feature that they share. Either way, no matter what hair colour she had, its rather tragic that he lost her so young. And he's not going to overcome that feeling of loss anytime soon.**

 **No flashback at the start this time. Rather his thoughts as he dreams. As I was writing, I didn't particularly want there to be a flashback at the start of every chapter, in fact not every single chapter needs to have one. It would become a bit... Formulaic. So, the positioning of them will start to change as we go on.**

 **I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Let know what you think. And thanks so much for all the positive feedback so far, I really appreciate it. See you real soon.**


	5. Chapter 4 - Like Father, Like Son

**Warning: This chapter contains physical and some mental abuse, however it is not extreme and is not meant to offend those that are reading this story.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4 - Like Father, Like Son**

It had been almost a week since the transformation. It felt like an eternity.

Beast had remained in his room for the full duration of that time. He had never left, not even for meals. Instead, one of the servants, he wasn't sure who, brought up a tray of food, knocked, and then left before he could open the door. He appreciated that, that they kept to his wishes and gave him the space he needed. It gave him at least a bit of control back, after his life had spiralled out of control.

He had learnt quite a few things about his new body over the last couple of days.

Walking had become less of an ordeal, in fact he was getting the hang of it, or at least somewhat. He did stumble every now and then, but it was better than it was.

The trouble was, now that walking had become less of a problem, it has been replaced by something else. And that was eating.

When the servants had first brought up a tray of food several days earlier, establishing the new routine, he had attempted to pick up a spoon. It was a poor attempt, as his massive paw made the piece of cutlery look tiny, and he ended up bending it by simply holding it. It was obvious that he didn't know his own strength.

It was frustrating, that a simple thing like eating had become so difficult. He tried his best, with a knife and fork, but it eventually became too much to bear. No matter how undignified he thought it made him look, he started to use his paws and fingers to eat. But looking undignified was the least of his worries.

He had also learned that while scouring his wardrobe that none of his clothes fit him anymore. You didn't have to be a genius to work that out, though, all you had to do was compare the size of him to his old attire, which would surely rip if he so much as tried to put it on.

At least he still had his trousers from the ballroom dance. They were torn and stretched to their maximum capacity, but they still covered up what was left to be desired.

He had been browsing his wardrobe in search of something to cover himself up, so that less of his monstrous form could be seen by others, or be seen by himself. He hated seeing it whenever he so much as looked down.

He came across an old grey cloak hidden at the back, behind his other clothes, covered in a thick layer of dust. He wasn't sure how long it had been there, in fact he didn't even recall wearing it. He draped the large cloak over his body, and it ran down his back to the hem of his trouser leg. He didn't even attempt to put on a shirt, as he imagined trying to button it up would be a nightmare. The cloak served its purpose well enough on its own. At least, the purpose that he intended for it.

There was one more thing that he had learned about himself.

His senses were so much stronger now. Mainly his sense of smell and hearing. They were insanely powerful.

His nose was finely tuned, and more often than not he could smell what the servants were cooking in the kitchen, and smell the flowers outside in the gardens, all from his current location.

You'd think that having a keen sense of smell would be a positive thing, but it wasn't.

Everything had a smell now, he could almost taste some in his mouth, it was very hard to ignore, and rather overwhelming. There were two distinct smells in his bedroom. Both scent trails turned out to belong to him. The faint, lingering smell was his old scent. He hadn't taken to sniffing himself when he was human, but he knew what he had originally smelled like. The other smell was overpowering, it was everywhere, everything that he had been around, touched, held, lingered beside, carried his new scent and was starting to cancel out the old one.

If he had to describe his current smell, he'd say that it closely resembled that of a wet dog. He knew what one of those smelt like as he had been around his old dog, Wilfred, when he had been given baths or had been out in the rain.

He despised the fact that he smelt like an animal. Not only that, but an animal that reeked of its own filth, as it certainly didn't smell like a clean wet dog, quite the opposite in fact. And there was no way to get rid of it, because the smell wasn't even that strong, it was just that his nose always caught a whiff of it.

Having strong hearing wasn't very thrilling either. He had taken the time to figure out where his ears were actually located now, as their placement had shifted. He had found them hidden under the mass of fur on his head, just below the horns, completely flattened. He had traced them with his fingers, and discovered that they were shaped in a similar way to that of a deer's.

Besides the placement of his ears, he had experienced a buzzing noise every so often, as if they wanted to listen in on a particular sound against his will. He hoped that it would eventually go away.

So, aside from all of these annoyances, the last couple of days had been... Well, similarly annoying, torture almost. The worst part was that this was only the beginning. It was going to get so much worse, he could feel it.

The current day was uneventful.

He had woken up, gotten out of bed, and checked the rose, which he was starting to get into the habit of doing. So far, no petals had fallen, which allowed him to breathe a sigh of relief.

Aside from that, nothing of interest had happened. Except, there was one thing... One small, somewhat insignificant little thing, that seemed to resonate with him.

A bird had flown in from the balcony and landed on top of the glass case that covered the rose.

The feathers on its back were the most beautiful shade of blue, while its stomach was pure white.

It reminded him of a group of birds that had been kept in a cage out in the garden when he was younger. On one occasion, his mother had carefully taken one out for him to pet, and he had gently stroked the top of its head with his finger.

His father was the one that kept those poor birds cooped up in that tiny cage. His mother had always spoke of wanting to set them free.

And that's exactly what Beast had done after her passing. Late one night, in the days of his youth, he had snuck out of the castle, unhooked the latch, threw open the cage door and watched as the small flock flew out, finally free. He had seen them dip and soar, before flying over the gardens and high above the trees, disappearing from view.

He liked to think that the blue bird perched on the glass case was one of those birds, or one of its offspring, returning to its old home.

The bird did not linger for long. It fled as soon as it caught sight of him. He didn't blame it, poor thing must have been frightened to death.

It wasn't long after the bird had graced him with its presence that the servants came knocking at his door, but they weren't looking to give him a meal this time.

"Master, may we come in?" Lumiere asked, his voice muffled by the door.

"If you must." He sighed.

The door opened, and Lumiere entered, followed by Cogsworth, Plumette, Mrs Potts and her son, in a similar fashion to a few days prior. He knew that all of them gathered together meant that they wanted something from him. Probably the same thing as before, no doubt.

"Master, so good to see you! I haven't set eyes on you for five straight days!" Lumiere greeted cheerfully.

Personally he would never want to lay eyes on himself ever again so he wasn't sure why Lumiere was so happy to see him.

"What do you want, Lumiere?" Beast asked gruffly.

"Well, you see, master... After giving you the time you needed, we were thinking that perhaps you could address the other servants now? They still want to hear from you, and they're getting very anxious. If you don't do something, the false order we're trying to upkeep might turn into chaos." The candlestick explained.

How predictable that they were there to talk him into addressing the other servants. They didn't give up, no doubt about that.

"Not this again." Beast grunted "For the last time, I'm not going to do that. I can't let them see me like this." He told them. "Besides, aren't I hopeless, a lost cause, a walking reminder of your failures?" He questioned. "I know what you've been saying about me."

Truth be told, their conversation had been playing on his mind for the last couple of days.

The servants' eyes widened simultaneously. "You used the mirror..." Lumiere whispered in realisation.

"Oh for goodness sake." Mrs Potts butted in. "You can't keep yourself cooped up in here for the rest of your life!" She shouted, losing her temper with him, putting her foot down, acting like she was his mother and that he was a petulant child. When it came down to it, she was the only one brave enough to stand up to him.

"Can't I?" He questioned, furrowing his brow. Who was she to tell him what he could and couldn't do?

"No, you can't! Sooner or later, you have to face facts, you need to wake up and accept that this is your life now until you break the curse! Because you're the only one who can do it and you can't do anything if you're hiding away in your room!"

"I didn't ask for any of this!" He shouted back.

"Neither did I! You're not the only one who is suffering, we all are! So for once in your life, stop being so selfish and please just do this one simple thing that we're asking you to do!" She cried. "What would your mother think?!" She exclaimed, finally reaching boiling point.

Mrs Potts suddenly realised what she had said during her outburst, and her expression was riddled with regret and guilt.

The mention of his mother sparked his inner fury. Within seconds, Beast had reached the other side of the room, his paws thundering against the stone floor as he charged towards Mrs Potts, seething with rage.

The other servants tried but failed to form a protective barricade in front of her, as they couldn't do much as they barely reached up to his knees.

"Master, I'm-" she began, but was cut off as he came barrelling down on her.

"How dare you speak of my mother in that way! You have no right!" He roared. "WHY CAN'T YOU ALL JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?!"

He saw red, and for a moment his mind was clouded and he couldn't see.

He heard Mrs Potts scream, and her son cried out.

"Master, don't!" Lumiere exclaimed.

In an instant, Beast's mind was clear, and he found himself clutching Mrs Potts in his paws, his claws digging into her teapot body.

Was... Was he about to throw her across the room? Shatter her on the nearest wall?

"Master, please don't do this." Lumiere begged "If you throw her, she'll break and... You could kill her."

"Please don't hurt my mum." The small, terrified teacup, Chip, pleaded.

Beast stared at Chip for a moment, and he saw himself in that boy.

Beast glanced around at the other servants, a look of fear written on each one of their faces. He then looked back at Mrs Potts, her eyes tightly closed as she braced herself for whatever was coming.

He exhaled, his breath shaking, his whole body trembling as he gently placed Mrs Potts back down on the trolley she had been residing on. She opened her eyes and Chip rushed over to her, snuggling close beside her.

Beast stared at them, slowly backing away, almost tripping over his own feet. He had almost taken Chip's mother away from him. How could he have done that? How had he allowed himself to get close to doing that?

"Just go... Please..." He told them, his voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't need to ask twice, and the servants hurried away, huddling around Mrs Potts as they left.

Alone once more, Beast's breathing became rapid. In his panicked and confused state, he lifted his paws and clutched the fur on top of his head, gripping it with all his might. He didn't mean to, he would never...

He nearly broke her- killed her. He... He didn't know what was wrong with him. First the portrait and now this, how long before he ended up actually breaking one of the servants?

He staggered across the room, stopping in front of the family portrait and staring at his father's torn face.

He wasn't a stranger to violence, he had seen it with his own eyes. But he never considered the possibility that he would try to hurt anyone.

Unwillingly, Beast found himself flashing back to a point in time he'd much rather forget.

His mother and father had been arguing at the dinner table again. The argument was about him, as they both had very different ideas on how they should be raising him.

It escalated and his father asked him to leave. When he wouldn't, his mother told him to go and play with his toys for a bit while they had a 'talk'. Begrudgingly, the young prince had left, but lingered at the doorway, peeping through the keyhole.

What happened next was burned into his memory.

"How dare you mock me in front of our son!" His father exclaimed.

"I wasn't!" His mother retorted.

"Of course you were! I know what you're doing, you're trying to turn him against me, but it won't work! He's my son as well, you can't keep him away from me forever!"

"I'll make sure that I do! I will not allow you to turn him into a monster, he is nothing like you and he never will be!" She shouted.

"Whatever you have planned for him is going to ruin this kingdom."

"Enough about the kingdom, that's all that matters to you, what about our son's happiness?"

"Happiness will only ever get you so far." The King stated. "He won't need that when he realises that he can have anything he's ever wanted."

"Like how you love to spend time with so many other women that swarm at your feet." She retorted. "You're not a monster, you're just a pig."

He hit her.

He smacked his own wife across the face, causing her head to jerk the other way.

His mother sat in stunned silence, and lifted her hand to touch her sore, red cheek. Tears welled in her eyes.

The young prince stifled a gasp, so that he wouldn't be heard.

His father drew closer, his face so close to her's "Do not make a fool out of me, do you understand?" He whispered lowly. "I am the King, you are my wife. You listen to me, you obey me. That's how it is supposed to be. And if you don't start listening, I could always just get rid of you, it wouldn't be hard, I could make something up, say that you're insane, nobody would question me. And you would never see Adam again, is that what you want?"

She shook her head violently, putting her hand to her mouth to stop herself from choking up a sob. Tears trickled down her cheeks and splashed onto her plate.

"Well then, try to learn a bit of respect for your husband. After all, I've given you so much... I could easily take it away."

His mother continued to sob silently. It was hard to tell if she was even listening anymore.

"Honestly, you're so pathetic. And you wonder why I prefer to spend time with others rather than you." He muttered, picking up her napkin off the table and handing it to her, so she could dry her tears "Pull yourself together for goodness sake, we don't want Adam to see you in such a state now, do we? You're supposed to be his mother after all. You do want to stay strong for him, don't you?"

Back in the present, Beast narrowed his eyes and glared at his father.

A few days earlier, he had wondered if this is what his father had wanted, the monster he was now.

At first, he thought that it couldn't be. But now he was second guessing himself.

Not only had he become just like his father... He had also become something so much worse.

* * *

 **A/N - Truth be told, I was a little worried about posting this chapter. My concerns stem from how I've characterised Beast's father. When I heard Mrs Potts describe him as 'cruel' in the movie, I wondered what was it about him that made her describe in such a way. After a while of consideration, I decided that Beast's anger has to come from somewhere, and perhaps it could be possible that some of it came from his 'cruel' father. I just want you to know that, I didn't just put this on his father's character in an instant or for the sake of it, thinking that it was 'edgy' or something stupid like that, this is something that I introduced to expand upon, to work into the story, to help us gain a better understanding of Beast's past and how it shaped him into what he is now.**

 **I don't condone this kind of behaviour, of course. And I never will. But in the time period this is set in, I suppose it was 'normal' in someway. But it doesn't make it right.**

 **We'll slowly understand more about his father later on. I don't plan on making him a one dimensional character with no depth, that the only thing he does is hurt people. So just stick with it and you'll see what I have in store.**


	6. Chapter 5 - False Hope

**Chapter 5 - False Hope**

His hand hurt. It was bleeding.

The young prince curled his tiny fist into a ball, to stop the blood from dripping everywhere.

He could hear muffled sobbing coming from inside his mother's room. He knocked on the door that separated the young boy from his mother, and the crying came to an abrupt end.

"Who is it?" He heard his mother ask, her voice cracking.

"It's me." He replied, knowing that the sound of his voice would indicate who he was.

He heard her laugh half-heartedly "You don't have to knock, Adam. You can just come in."

He twisted the door knob and stepped inside. His mother was sitting on the end of the master bed, the canopy hanging above her head.

Her eyes were red and puffy, glistening with remaining tears and her cheeks wet. She quickly wiped her face, attempting to dry her eyes as he stared at her curiously. The cheek where his father had hit her was still red.

Fearing that he had stared at her for too long, he took his gaze off of her and pretended not to notice. He didn't hide it very well.

His mother observed him, looking up and down his body before her eyes landed on his clenched fist, where blood was seeping out between his fingers. Her eyes widened in horror and she stood up and rushed over to him. "Adam, what have you done to yourself?!" She cried, crouching down in front of him "Here, let me take a look." She said, taking hold of his injured hand, and forcing his fingers open. What she found was that the source of the bleeding was a couple of tiny holes in his fingers and palm.

"I pricked myself on some thorns." He admitted.

"How did you do that? You're normally so careful." She commented.

"I was in a rush, and it was dark outside and I couldn't see." He explained.

"What were you doing in the garden by yourself so late at night?" She questioned.

"I wanted to get you a rose to cheer you up." He replied, revealing a white rose to her. "You were upset, I just wanted to make you feel better, and I remembered that giving you a rose made you happy."

"Oh Adam." She sighed, lifting her hand and touching his face, her fingers making contact with his hair as she stroked his cheek with her thumb "What am I going to do with you?"

"Why were you crying, mother?" He asked.

"It doesn't matter, it's nothing for you to worry about." She replied.

"Is it because father hit you?" He questioned. In hindsight, it wasn't a good idea to bring it up, but his childish curiosity and naivety got the better of him. He wasn't very sensitive either.

"You saw..." She murmured. "I thought I told you to go play with your toys! You weren't supposed to see that."

"I'm sorry, mother. I didn't mean any harm, honest."

"I know, sweet heart. I'm not angry, I promise. I just... I didn't want you to have to see that." She told him softly, cupping his face with both hands now.

"Has he done it before?" He questioned.

Her breath hitched. She was quiet for a moment but shook her head before answering "No, never. And I'm sure it won't happen again. He was just angry, that's all. He lashed out, but he didn't mean it."

At the time, he didn't notice that she sounded like she was trying to reassure herself more than him. Looking back, he didn't think that was the first time he had hit her. Or the last.

"Your father and I may fight sometimes but that doesn't mean we don't love each other. He may lose his temper sometimes, but you can't help being angry. Even I can get angry like that. It's nothing for you to concern yourself with." She told him. "But thank you for the rose. It's made me feel so much better." She added, taking it from him, and putting it to one side. "I'll make sure to put it in a vase later."

"Now, how about we go find you a bandage for your hand?" She suggested. "But let me kiss it better first." She said, kissing him on the back of his hand. She then quickly leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, catching him off guard. The young prince giggled and kissed her back.

She was still broken, but she put on a brave face and a fake smile, all just for him. Sometimes he wondered what smiles and joyful moments were genuine and what were just a front. Maybe the rose and kisses had made her feel better, or maybe it was just a lie, to make him feel like he had succeeded, that he had fixed everything.

But no amount of roses, or kisses or bandages could fix what he had done to Mrs Potts.

* * *

Beast wasn't sure how long it had been since the servants had hurried away in fear. The passage of time was lost on him right now, it could have been a few minutes, it also could have been an hour, maybe more.

He was sitting on the steps leading up to the balcony, his head in his paw. His body was still shaking, both from sheer terror and remnants of his rage.

His mind was racing. He didn't understand, how could he have attacked Mrs Potts? Where was all this anger coming from? Was it some sort of animal behaviour that he couldn't control or had he always been like this?

He had his moments before the transformation, he had gotten angry in the past, shouted, sworn, but he had never struck out at anyone, he wasn't a violent man. Then again, he wasn't man anymore.

The worst part was that he could barely remember doing it. He drew a blank whenever he tried to picture picking Mrs Potts up and attempting to throw her across the room. He remembered getting angry, and storming over to her, but everything after that was a haze, until he had been snapped out of rage induced state.

He had definitely seen red. But what exactly was it that made his anger spiral out of control? What caused him to go into such a state, where all rational thought was gone, and the only thing that was clear to him was a voice screaming inside his head, telling him to unleash all of his hatred and just break something?

It had to be the transformation. Perhaps his thought process had been altered too, the inner workings of his brain had changed, become more like an animal's, it had made him angrier, violent. That had to be it.

So why didn't he believe it?

Maybe the transformation wasn't solely to blame. Maybe it wasn't the transformation at all. Maybe it was just him. All this anger, this unbridled rage, perhaps it had been lurking inside of him all along. When he was human he must have had more restraint, but now that he was a beast... He could just let himself go.

He thought back to that fateful night, where he had watched his father hit his mother through the keyhole of a closed door.

He wondered if the same thing happened to his father, when he hit his mother. Maybe he saw red too, maybe he didn't know what he was doing until the moment had passed.

Maybe Beast got it from him.

No. His father was fully aware of what he was doing. He did not show a single shred of guilt that night. He was in complete control of his actions.

Beast moved his paw and ran it through his mane-like fur as he sighed. The constant tremors running through his body were starting to cease now. His breathing was still shallow and shaky, but other than that, he was calm.

Maybe parts of his anger did come from his father. His mother had always been kind and gentle, so who else could he point the finger at?

He looked down at his other paw, at his open palm and sharp claws. The same paw that had almost ended Mrs Potts life. He began to open and close his fist.

He wondered what would have become of Mrs Potts if he had gone through with it. Would it actually have killed her? Or was there some kind of spell placed upon the servants if they were ever to break, so that they could reform?

He doubted that any one of them wanted to try their luck and find out. Either way, he would have seriously hurt her, and there was the strong possibility he could have killed her.

But that wasn't his intention. He didn't know, he didn't think, he didn't even know he was doing it!

He thought of the servants, by the fireplace once more, huddled together, comforting Mrs Potts. She must be just as shaken up as he is. If she and the others weren't scared of him before, then they certainly were now.

But she wasn't completely in the right either, bringing up his mother like that. The thought of his mother and what she would think of him tormented him enough without some human-turned-teapot mentioning it.

Then again, she never could have known he would lash out like that. It might not have been the best approach, but she was only trying to help, trying to get through to him. Tensions were running high, someone was bound to snap eventually.

So what was he going to do now? Stay in his room for the rest of his life? Hide away from his problems?

He furrowed his brow and glanced over at the family portrait, his eyes falling on his father's ripped face. That's something his father would do, ignore the issue, pretend that it didn't happen.

That wasn't him.

Beast pushed himself off the ground and stood up. He had decided, he had finally made up his mind, he was going to do something he hadn't done in a very long time. He was going to apologise.

He tugged at his cloak as the right side started to slip off his shoulder. He walked over to the door of his room, took hold of the knob and twisted it, and pulled the door open, slowly at first and peaking out of the small crack before pulling it open wider.

A cold draft rushed passed him and blew through his fur. He was about to step out of his room when he froze, almost as if his joints had locked up. However, he had stopped completely by choice. He was still debating with himself.

Why should he be the one to apologise? Mrs Potts had been completely out of line. She was merely a servant, she was beneath him, it was not her place to speak to him like that. She should have known better, and she should have to deal with the consequences of her actions. What did she expect would happen when she brought up his mother in such away?

If anything, she should be the one apologising with him.

He was about to retreat back into his room but hesitated. His paw was still gripping the door knob and he was half in and half out, stranded in the doorway, unsure of what to do.

He shook his head. No, that's something his father would say, what he had conditioned him to think like.

It was time for him to think for himself, to stop doubting his own judgement and keeping his father's teachings so close to his heart. It may be hard to forget, after all those years of listening to his father rattle on about what he should and shouldn't be, but he had to try. He had to try to be a better man, even if he wasn't one.

For the first time in several days, he was stepping out of his room and into the West Wing. It was rather exhilarating as it was equally terrifying, to think that the other castle servants would be able to see him now and his awful appearance.

His grimaced when he caught sight of the stairs leading down. He was much better at walking now, of course, and he had walked up and down the stairs leading to the balcony, but there weren't nearly as many stairs in his room as there was in front of him now.

He groaned. This was going to take some time. He just hoped that apologising to Mrs Potts would be worth the effort.

He carefully descended down the stairs, taking one, slow, cautious step at a time. Eventually he started to get the hang of it, and reached the bottom of the stairs much quicker than he originally thought.

He didn't necessarily have to scour the castle to find them. There was a distant murmuring, it had some unrest to it, and it wasn't coming from too far away, so he just followed the noise to its source.

He padded over and soon enough arrived at the kitchen. The door was open ajar, and the bright orange glow of candle light poured out into the corridor.

He approached the door and was about to enter when he caught wind of their conversation and paused. He peered through the crack, breathing softly as to not get caught, although it was hard to disguise, as it was rather loud when he simply breathed normally.

The servants were standing on the table in the centre of the kitchen, talking amongst themselves.

"Are you sure you're alright, Mrs Potts?" Lumiere asked concernedly.

"I'm fine, honestly. Just a little shaken up that's all." She replied, nestling close to Chip.

"I just can't believe he'd do something like that... He was so close to doing some serious harm." Plumette murmured.

"I didn't think he was capable of doing it, I wouldn't have said anything if I'd known." Mrs Potts stated.

"I still don't think he is capable of that. He didn't seem like himself at all. Did you see the glazed over look in his eyes? It was like... Something had took over. I don't think he knew what he was doing." Lumiere said.

"Are you saying this might have something to do with what he is now?" Plumette asked.

"Maybe. But I really don't know, I'm just as confused as you are." He replied "I'm just glad I managed to snap him out of whatever state he was in before he did something he would regret."

"Or maybe he was just always like this, and we never noticed before because we were too blinded by how he looked and our fond memories of him when he was younger. But now that his appearance has changed, we're seeing him for who he truly is." Cogsworth suggested.

"I don't think he would have ever tried to hurt any of us before, Cogsworth." Lumiere argued.

"I'm just saying what I think. I could be right l, I could be wrong, who can say for certain. I don't think we'll ever truly understand him and what's going on inside his head." Cogsworth muttered.

"I don't think he even fully understands himself." Lumiere replied.

"It's all my fault, I didn't mean to upset him... I just wanted to make him see sense, but I only made it worse." Mrs Potts sighed.

"Don't blame yourself. You couldn't have known he would have reacted in such a way, none of us could. We all want him to see sense, but you were the only one brave enough to challenge him." Lumiere comforted her.

"Fat lot of good it did. It probably made him angrier. How are we ever going to get through to him now?" Cogsworth questioned "Let's face it, maybe... Maybe he is a lost cause."

Beast had heard enough. He pushed the kitchen door open, much to the servants' surprise. He lingered in the doorway for a moment as they gave each other worried glances.

"Master, how much did you-" Lumiere began.

"May I talk to Mrs Potts?" Beast interrupted. "Alone." He added. It wasn't a request, more of a demand.

The servants didn't move an inch, instead they stood their ground, exchanging glances between Mrs Potts and him.

"You heard the master, everyone. Give us some room to talk." Mrs Potts spoke up, not a hint of fear in her calm voice.

One by one, the servants climbed down from the table and made their way over to the door.

"Even you, Chip." Mrs Potts told her son, who still lingered beside her. Chip didn't budge, nervously staring at Beast. "Go on now." She said, nudging him gently "It'll be alright."

Hesitantly, Chip hopped down from the table and glided along the floor on top of a saucer.

"Lumiere." Beast addressed the candlestick as he was leaving.

"Yes, master?" He replied.

"Tell the servants to gather by the front entrance of the castle. I'll be there to speak with all of them in a short while." He told him.

Lumiere's mouth fell open and he stood in stunned silence. He quickly regained his composure and clapped his hands- candlesticks together. "Of course, master! I'll get right on it!" He replied, turning and hurrying out of the kitchen.

Beast watched them go, and made sure that none of them remained to listen in at the door before he shut it.

He wasn't sure if there were any servants in the kitchen that physically couldn't leave. If there were, he hoped that they would close their ears.

The two stared at each other for a moment, silent and unmoving. And then she smiled warmly at him, which surprised him immensely. He thought the mere sight of him would disgust her.

"Why don't you take a seat, deary?" She suggested. "There's a stool over there. Go on, take a load off while we chat."

He went over and picked up the stool, as he was being urged to do so.

"Would you like me to pour you a cup of tea? It will help calm you down." She asked as he carried to stool over.

"Alright." He replied simply, placing the stool by the table and sitting down. The small, wooden chair creaked under his weight, and for a moment he thought it might cave beneath him. But the stool only just managed to support his weight.

Mrs Potts poured the tea and pushed it over to him. Beast watched as the steaming, brown liquid swirled inside the tiny cup. Unsure of how to pick up the fragile object without breaking off the handle, or just breaking the whole cup, he scooped it up in both paws and slurped up some of the tea.

He placed the cup down on the saucer and met eyes with Mrs Potts once more.

"Mrs Potts... I'm sorry, for what I did." He apologised "I didn't mean for any of it to happen, I wasn't thinking straight... I don't know what came over me."

"It's fine." Mrs Potts replied "I understand. You don't have to say anymore."

"I don't? But I thought..."

"Thought what?" She questioned.

"I thought you might hate me, and that it would take a lot more convincing for you to forgive me." He replied.

"Hate is a strong word. I could never hate you, because I know that the person that attacked me wasn't really you."

He lowered his head and stared solemnly at the centre of the table, anywhere that wasn't in her direction.

"But you're not solely to blame. It was my fault too, and I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought up your mother in such a way. It wasn't fair on you." She apologised.

"I forgive you." He responded. How could he hold a grudge against her? She was like a godmother to him.

They were quiet for a moment, before Mrs Potts spoke up once more "Can I ask you something?"

He wondered what that something was, and if he was going to like it. He probably wasn't but he couldn't exactly refuse. Well, he could, but he was curious to find out what she wanted to know.

"Sure." Beast responded.

"Are you scared, Adam?" She asked.

Adam. The use of his name struck a cord with him. He couldn't remember the last time someone had called him that, even before he had become a beast. He had been called sir, or master, or 'my prince' but never Adam. He didn't even refer to himself with that name, not after the transformation. He didn't deserve a name.

"I'm terrified." He admitted, his voice trembling. "I'm scared of what I'm capable of, what I'm turning into... I feel like I don't understand myself anymore. My head is a mess, and I know it's early days, but I thought it would be clearer, but it's not. I keep waking up hoping that it will turn out to be a dream... Instead it's all just a waking nightmare."

He lowered his head and rubbed his face with his paws.

"I know it's hard. It hurts, we've all lost so much in such a short space of time." She responded. "But you have to stay strong. I know it seems hopeless, but like you say, it's early days. First things first, you have to accept that this is your life now until you break the curse. I'm not saying it will get any easier, but we're here to support you for every step of the way. We want to be there for you, we want to help you in any way we can, but we can't if you keep pushing us away. So please, please... Let us help you, because you can't do this alone." She pleaded. "You have to have hope, so that we can all get through this together."

He took a moment to think. Mrs Potts' words were rather inspiring. The situation did seem hopeless, but his servants wanted to stick by him and help him. Why should he distance himself from them when all they wanted to do was support him?

"I'll try to have hope. I can't promise anything, but I'll try." He told her strongly.

"That's all we can really ask for." She replied, smiling at him. "Some days will seem worse than others, and there may be times where you want to give up, but it will get better. I'm sure of it."

"If you say so." He murmured indifferently.

"I do say so." She replied. "One more thing..." She began "If you ever pick me up like that again, I swear, I'll give you a good scalding." She warned, although she was partly joking. At least, he thought she was. He decided not to test it to find out.

He chuckled lightly "I hear you."

The kitchen door opened and Lumiere poked his head in "Master, the servants are ready when you are." He told him, before withdrawing from the room once more.

"Looks like you're being summoned." Mrs Potts commented.

"It would seem so." Beast replied, rising from the stool. "I'm not sure if I'm ready to do this." He admitted.

"Are you worried about what they might think of you, because of what you look like now?" She asked.

He nodded "Very much."

"Trust me, they don't care about that. After all, they're in pretty much the same boat as you. Except most of us don't have hands anymore, but you do! Well, to an extent, so count yourself lucky."

"I'm positively thrilled." He replied sarcastically.

"It'll be fine. They just need some reassurance, that's all. Talking to them will make you feel better, as they share the same pain as you." She told him. "Now go on, you can't keep them waiting!"

"Alright, I'm going." He responded, walking over to the kitchen door but stopping when he reached it. "Thank you, Mrs Potts, for talking to me. In the end, you did manage to get through to me."

"Well, I suppose nearly getting broken was worth it then." She replied, winking at him.

He hummed in response and exited the kitchen. It was good that they could make light of what had happened. Well, she could, but he on the other hand found it hard to. He failed to see how there could be a funny side to what he had done.

"You can do this, you can do this, you can do this." He whispered to himself as he walked back towards the grand staircase, where all the servants were gathered. Or at least, the ones that could move into that room. He'd have to send a message round to the ones that couldn't make it.

The hushed whispering amongst the household objects died as he walked passed the servants and onto the staircase, positioning himself so that everyone could see him.

His eyes surveyed each one, trying to get a read on what they were thinking. Unfortunately, it was very hard to tell, due to some of them not even having proper faces.

Beast straightened his hunched over back and stood taller, prouder as he cleared his throat "Greetings, everyone. Forgive me, for keeping you waiting, I've had a lot to deal with over the last couple of days."

The servants watched him silently. "Anyway..." He continued "I know that you're all finding it hard to deal with this sudden change, I am too. None of us ever imagined that something like this was possible, and yet here we are. And I'm not asking you all to carry on as normal, but, I hope that we can all adjust and try to live our lives in the simplest way possible. And if we endure, and hold out hope... One day, a maiden will come here, and break this curse."

He didn't believe it himself. What girl in her right mind would ever come to such a decrepit castle surrounded in an eternal winter? She'd have to be mad. But he was just saying what they wanted to hear.

"Until then, I also ask you that you be patient with me. My head is all over the place. I'm still learning and I'm rather unsure of myself. I would appreciate it if you give me the space I need. But I will try harder to be active again, perhaps give you orders to distract yourself if that's what you really want. We must do whatever we can to make this experience a little more bearable for ourselves." He finished.

The servants turned to one another, muttering in agreement. They seemed satisfied.

It was time for him to take his leave. He didn't want to linger for very long. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be in my room if you need anything. But I shall come back down... soon enough."

And so, he withdrew, returning to his room. The day seemed to flown by so fast, so much had happened, he was completely drained and exhausted.

He closed his bedroom door and pressed his head up against it. He had done. He had actually stood in front of the servants and spoken to them. He breathed a sigh of relief and turned around, leaning back against the door.

Thank goodness that was over. He thought it would make him feel worse, the servants seeing his face, but he actually felt better, like an invisible weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

He slowly slid down the door and sank into a sitting position, resting his head on the door.

Hopefully his little speech would keep the servants off his back for a while. Truth be told, he didn't have much hope for a maiden ever showing up at the castle and falling in love with him.

Suppose he could pray that one would eventually turn up. Perhaps one of the maidens from the ballroom dance would return, and fall in love with him on the basis that he was a prince. It was the only real possibility he could think of.

But pray? He hadn't had a reason to pray for a long time, as for a while, he had everything he could ever want. At least, he thought he did. His parents had been religious, of course, and in turn he was too. But the last time he had prayed, and meant it, was when he had prayed for his mother's recovery.

Those prayers hadn't been answered.

But what else did he have to lose? Nothing.

He didn't put his paws together, or even close his eyes. He remained where he was and rolled his head back, and pleaded to whoever might be up there listening, to answer his prayers, for someone to free him from this hell.

He would try to keep to his word and be hopeful. Or at least pretend to be.

But being hopeful and praying didn't save his mother. Would anyone listen this time? One can only wait and see.

The only hope he truly had was that it would be over soon, before his worst fear was realised. Before he lost himself to his anger once more.

He just wanted everything to go back to the way it was, for everything to be normal again. But after the whole ordeal, returning to that sense of normality seemed to be getting further and further away from his reach.

* * *

 **A/N - The warning on the last chapter was more so for any young people that might be reading, as I rated this a K+, and I didn't think it was necessary to change it to a T rating. I hope it didn't turn anyone off reading it, since there was a lack of feedback, save for one person. It was probably nothing for me to be concerned about though. I just worry about stupid things, 'tis all.**

 **Anyway, I originally wanted to make this part of chapter 4, but I thought it would drag on for too long, so I split them. This is the last chapter from the early days of the transformation, they'll be a big time skip in chapter 6! Exciting times.**

 **I checked my numbers, and I can say for certain that chapter 15 is the last chapter before we arrive at the plot of the movie. It's going to be so much fun to show it to you all! I'm currently working on chapter 10, so their are plenty of chapters still stock piled and waiting to be posted. I'm really enjoying writing this story and sharing it with you all, and I hope you're enjoying it as much as I am!**

 **I'll see you in the next one!**


	7. Chapter 6 - A Broken Promise

**Chapter 6 - A Broken Promise**

A year seemed to fly by. Or was it two years? Beast couldn't say for certain. He wasn't very good at keeping track of time in his current mental state. Time flowed like a river and he was just drifting along with the current, unsure of where he was going or how long he had been floating on the surface of the water.

Every day felt the same. They all seemed to blend into one, and he could hardly tell them apart. If you asked him what he did the week before, he probably wouldn't be able to tell you.

Instead of keeping track of the number of days, weeks, months, and years that had passed, instead, he would just keep a watchful eye on the enchanted rose.

In the span of one, or perhaps two years, only four petals had fallen from the rose. He was thankful for that, as the petals falling off slowly meant that he had enough time to fix this mess. He just wished he knew how to fix it.

Even still, watching the petals fall wasn't a joyous sight, whether they were coming off regularly or not. Waiting and wondering when the next one would fall was agonising.

He remembered seeing the first petal fall rather vividly. He had stood by the pedestal and watched hopelessly with baited breath as the red petal peeled away and gently floated down, landing at the base of the stalk, becoming crumpled and dull. It was like watching sand slowly drain from an hourglass.

That day, it became apparent to him how much his life was ruled by that stupid flower. The rose dictated how long he had left before the spell became permanent, and he was powerless to do anything about it.

It was a painful existence.

During that amount of time, let's just say a year and a half, to be safe, he had taken it upon himself to seek out and find the Enchantress. But the trail she left behind ran cold.

There was no way of finding her. He tried asking the enchanted mirror to show her to him, but no image was displayed. He even tried to use the enchanted book, another gift of her's that he swore he wouldn't use, but that turned up with no results either.

It would have been too easy to find her using the enchanted objects she had bestowed upon him anyway. She would have to be foolish to allow him to follow her. There weren't many other ways to look for her either, he couldn't exactly go outside and search. Where would he even start? Finding her was impossible, plain and simple.

But he was allowed to dream that they would cross paths again someday. He had two scenarios that played out in his head. The first scenario would be that he pinned her up against a wall using his paws and sharp claws and make her change him back, or forfeit her life. That was quite an empty threat, but who said she needed to be alive for the curse to be broken?

The other scenario, which he didn't favour as much, was that he went down on his hands and knees and begged her to change him back.

Needless to say, the first scenario was much more favourable, although it was unlikely.

Aside from fantasising about ending the curse prematurely, Beast had made more of an effort to interact with the servants.

He didn't dwell in his room all day. He did indeed spend most of his time up there, but he ventured out for meals and went into other parts of the castle.

He spoke with some of the servants occasionally, although conversations had been running dry as of late. There just wasn't much to talk about, no topic of interest.

Whenever he did speak with them, they normally talked about the weather. It was always the same, it just snowed, day in and day out. The only difference was that sometimes it was overcast, and other times it was still cloudy but some sunlight managed to break through. This almost constant state of darkness made it hard to tell when it was day and night.

Oddly enough, despite the fact that it was always snowing, the amount on the ground never seemed to deepen. Yes it would settle, but there only ever seemed to be a thin layer covering the gardens, and his balcony. He assumed it had something to do with it being magic.

The only other thing they spoke about was the condition of the castle. Ever since petals started to fall off the rose, cracks were forming in the walls and pieces of stone were starting to crumble away. He had seen it too, most noticeably when leaving his room, whenever he walked downstairs he always saw cracks in the walls of the West Wing, and those cracks were getting wider.

The deterioration of the castle was most likely another part of the curse. Whenever a petal fell, a tremor could be felt throughout the castle, shaking it down at its very foundations.

He still lost his temper with the servants, and had gone into fits of rage more times that he could count. But he hadn't gotten as angry as he had that fateful day, when he nearly smashed Mrs Potts. That was the first and last time he had ever apologised for his actions. If he apologised for every time he got angry... Well, let's just say he'd never be able to stop saying sorry.

He just couldn't help it, his patience was wearing thin, and his temperament was just getting worse, causing him to get angry over the simplest of things. He wanted to remain calm, but he could never contain his outbursts. It was too hard to keep his anger buried, due to being constantly frustrated about still being trapped as a beast.

Despite coming out of his room, there were still areas of the castle where he did not go. Instead, he avoided them like the plague.

The ballroom for starters was something he didn't want to lay eyes on again. That room was where it all started, where the transformation had taken place. He didn't want to set foot in there, fearing that he might end up reliving the traumatic experience.

His throne had vanished from the ballroom without a trace. Perhaps the Enchantress had erased it, just like she had erased himself and everyone from the memory of the townspeople. So he was told, anyway, by the servants, as there were some details he missed out on after the transformation was complete. But why remove the throne? To cover up the fact that he was a prince maybe?

He knew that Maestro Cadenza, who was now a piano, had made his home in that room, and frankly he was welcome to it. The servants had asked him if he wanted them to clean it up a bit, but he had refused. What would be the point? He wasn't going to use it. He doubted that he would be any good at dancing when he had massive paws for feet. Plus he didn't feel much like dancing anyway, as he didn't have anyone to dance with. If he were to dance alone, he'd have to be on the mood for it, and he wasn't in much of a mood to do anything.

It saddened him that he couldn't do the one thing he had enjoyed doing throughout his life.

And so, the ballroom was falling into a state of disrepair. But it hardly mattered anymore.

Another room he didn't dare to venture into was the library. He had gone in there once, to store the enchanted book on a far shelf, where he could forget about its existence. At the time, he had also picked out a book to read. Reading had always given him the opportunity to escape to a fictional world, and that's exactly what he planned to do. He'd rather be anywhere else other than trapped in the castle.

Unfortunately, that plan of his didn't work out too well. He ended up ripping one of the pages with his claws whilst he was turning it. It was frustrating, knowing that something else that he had once enjoyed doing was ruined by his own body.

Before the transformation, he had read all the time. He could never put a book down until it was finished, and managed to get through so many in such a short span of time. But now, he couldn't even start reading one.

Perhaps he could have tried harder, dedicated more time to reading that book by taking extreme care as he turned the pages. But he didn't have the patience for that. Why should he spend so much time and effort on something that should be so simple and easy?

He gave up on trying to read anything because he didn't trust himself.

Although there were areas of the castle he never went into, there was one room that he hadn't been into in years, a room that he had kept away from not by choice. Recently, he was strangely drawn to it, the room his father had sealed off.

And that room was... His old nursery.

Beast wasn't exactly sure why he wanted to go in there. Truth be told, he had been wanting to go in there for a while, but had only decided to commit to the act that day.

Ever since the transformation, he had been thinking about his mother and his childhood. His mother hadn't crossed his mind when he was a prince, as he had suppressed all of his memories of her, by pushing them to the back of his mind and locking them away. But now that he had time to think, those memories had started to come creeping back into his head, and he began to wonder why he had ever tried to bury them in the first place.

It had occurred to him how little his mother had touched his life. She had only been there for ten years, and he couldn't even remember a fraction of that time they had spent together, as his early childhood was lost to the passage of time. But despite that, it was surprising how much of a lasting impact she had left upon him. It just went to show how strong their connection had once been.

The nursery had also doubled up as a playroom. He and his mother had been in there many times together, played with his toys, played games like Princes and Princesses, the list was endless.

If he had to pin down his reason, he would have to say that he wanted to go in there because he felt like he'd be closer to her in that room. He wanted to reconnect with his past, his childhood, that seemed like another life. He wanted to reconnect with the memory of his mother.

He had gotten it into his head that the only way to do that was to go into his old nursery. Because when he tried to picture the room clearly, his mind drew a blank. He had to see it again, to look upon the gateway that could link him back to his childhood.

He had to see it.

The only problem was that the door was locked, and he didn't have a key.

He ran his fingers along the chipped, blue painted wooden door. It was fragile, and a little rotten, he could easily break it down if he wanted to, as he had the strength to do so. But he wasn't that desperate to get in, nor did he want to break down the door.

So he went looking for a key instead. He decided to ask Mrs Potts if she knew where to find one. She was also the easiest of the servants to find, as she was normally in the kitchen.

"Mrs Potts." He addressed her as he walked in.

"Master! Sorry for the wait, lunch will be ready shortly." She responded, a hint of nervousness to her voice.

He furrowed his brow "What? No, this isn't about lunch." He replied.

"It's not?" She questioned.

He had gotten angry about the food not being prepared on time on numerous occasions. Most animals can get rather touchy when it comes to food, so he chalked that one up to being a beast.

"No!" He exclaimed. He then sighed "I wanted to ask you if you know where I can find a set of keys?"

"Keys? What do you want keys for?" She asked.

"That's none of your business." He growled.

"Well, if you're looking for a specific key, I can't be much help if I don't know what room you want it for."

He grunted "Fine. Do you know where I can find the key to my old nursery?" He asked begrudgingly.

"Your old nursery? Hm... I think your father kept a key for that room in his study." She replied.

"Is that so? Well... I'll go check then." He responded, turning and taking his leave.

"You're welcome." He heard Mrs Potts mutter as he left.

He often forgot to use his manners, as he hadn't said 'please' or 'thank you' in a while. 'You don't need to use manners with the servants, they'll get the job done no matter what you say to them if they want to get paid.' His father used to say.

He was just glad she didn't press any further about why he wanted to go into the nursery. He didn't want to explain himself to her, nor did he have to.

His father's study had gone untouched. Even in his absence, Beast hadn't dared to move a single thing, let alone remove everything and make it into something of his own. The study was where you would often find his father, it was his domain. You could almost feel his lingering essence in that room.

The study walls were covered with book shelves, and in the centre sat a large, oak desk. Behind it was a window, but the crimson curtains were closed, allowing only a small trail of natural light to shine in. On the smooth stone floor lay a rug, made from the skin of a wolf. He stared at the wolf's gaping, razor sharp teeth filled mouth and lifeless eyes, frozen in a moment of anguish.

He wondered if his father had been the one to kill it. He highly doubted it.

He couldn't imagine what would happen to himself if he ever ran into a hunter. Perhaps they would make him into a rug, or stuff him, or hang his head on a wall. He shuddered and brushed that thought away.

He stepped over the wolf rug's head and walked over to the desk, moving aside his father's big, red lined chair.

He paused for a second, and looked over at a section of wall that wasn't cover in shelves, but instead, a huge, full length portrait of his father, looming over him. Beast could feel those dark eyes pierce his soul.

How vain did you have to be to have a portrait like that, hanging on a wall so close to you? What did his father even do with it, sit and admire himself?

Wait... He had a portrait just like that in his own room, except now it had claw marks through it, making the shreds of the canvas hang loosely from the frame. He had almost forgotten about that portrait... Forgotten that he was just as vain as his father.

He shook his head and turned away, opening up the drawers until he came across a single key. He didn't know for certain if it was the key he was looking for, but... He just had a feeling it was.

He closed the drawer and drew closer to his father's portrait, the light shining through the crack in the curtains touching his face "Why did you lock that room up?" He whispered softly "Did you really want to remove every trace of my mother that was left? Deny me of her memory?"

The portrait was silent. He hadn't expected an answer. He never would have dared to question his real father. "I was just a boy." He murmured, his voice becoming even quieter and wavering off.

He turned away and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

His heart was thundering in his chest as he hurried through the castle to the nursery room. He stopped dead in his tracks once he reached it. His arm trembled as he slotted the key into the keyhole.

It fit.

He turned the key and heard the satisfying click as it unlocked. He nudged the door, and it slowly creaked open, revealing the nursery to him.

It was like taking a trip back into the past. He bowed his head to avoid scrapping his horns on the top of the door frame as he stepped inside.

There was a thick layer of dust and cobwebs that covered just about everything in the room. The closest thing to him was a wood craved rocking horse.

He smiled and nudged it with his finger, and watched as it rocked gently back and forth.

There was a large rug that covered most of the floor, which was a welcoming change to that of the stone floor. The soft carpet felt good against his pads. However, the carpet was also littered with discarded toys, so he would have to watch his step as he trod through the maze of tiny objects.

Beast walked further into the nursery, drawing close to a cot, lined with neatly tucked in blankets.

His mother must have placed him in that cot many times when he was a baby, sung him a lullaby. She had sung him to sleep almost every night, even in his later childhood.

He continued to explore the room, examining the walls, and the crude child drawings that covered the lowest areas of the walls. One drawing sort of looked like a dog. His younger self must have been trying to draw Wilfred.

His foot knocked something that was lying on the floor. He glanced down and noticed that the object he had nearly stood on was a book. He knelt down and scooped it up, brushing off the thick layer of dust that covered it.

He gasped when he caught sight of the cover. It was his old fairy tale book. He hadn't laid eyes on it in years.

When he was younger, he had imagined himself turning out like one of the princes in the fairy tales. But instead, he had turned out like one of the monsters.

He wanted to open the book and reminisce, but feared he might damage it. So instead, he placed it inside the cot for safe keeping.

And that's when he saw it. His mother's music box.

He rushed over to it and picked it up. The music box had a rather simple design, it was box shaped, with the sun painted on it in gold.

The music box always played the tune for his mother's lullaby. He wasn't sure what came first, the music box, or the lullaby. He liked to think that his mother had gotten it made for him, so that if she wasn't there to sing him to sleep, he could listen to the music box instead.

What was it called, that song she used to sing? He couldn't really recall. It was another one of his memories that he had pushed to the back of his mind.

... Days in the Sun, that was it. Or at least, that's what he thought it was, it seemed to ring a bell.

Now what were the lyrics? He tried to remember but his mind drew a blank.

He ran his fingers along the music box. Perhaps if he played it, the tune would jog his memory.

Beast took hold of the handle and began to turn it. He turned it around three times before releasing it and waiting for the tune to play.

But nothing happened.

The handle tried to turn back, but it stiffened and locked into place. He could hear the cogs and springs inside attempting to turn, making a whirring sound, but the inner mechanisms seemed to be stuck.

It was broken.

He grimaced. He didn't know the first thing about fixing a music box. He wasn't going to try, as everything inside was rather delicate, and he would never be able to handle it with such care.

Disappointed, he placed the music box back down.

Why couldn't he remember the lullaby? He had heard it so many times, it should have come back to him effortlessly.

He closed his eyes and could almost hear his mother's voice. It was faint, but it was there.

He slowly began to remember the last few lyrics.

"Not until my own life is done, could I ever leave you..."

Beast opened his eyelids and stared at the music box. He didn't want to think about that memory anymore, or recall on that song. It had seemed so heart warming and soothing back then, but now it took on a whole different meaning. It hurt him. His eyes were starting to sting.

He glanced around at the desolate room that had been long forgotten. The remnants of his childhood that had been lost.

It was all gone. Just like her. She was gone.

He lowered his head sadly "But you did leave, mother..." He whispered softly, his voice cracking.

* * *

 **A/N - Fun fact: In the early stages of this story's development, I assumed that 'Days in the Sun' was a lullaby that Beast's mother used to sing to him long before the original version of that song was released.** **(I've been planning this for a while now hehehe)** **For that reason alone, I decided to base the lyrics on the ones his mother sings in the deleted scenes.**

 **It's the first time jump, one of many! I'm being intentionally vague about the amount of time that has passed, because Beast doesn't know for certain, he really is starting to lose touch with reality.**

 **That's all I really have to say for this one, so I'll see you in the next!**


	8. Chapter 7 - Playing the Happy Family

**Chapter 7 - Playing the Happy Family**

You would think that after being extremely saddened by what he found in the nursery, Beast would give up on trying to reconnect with his past, and the memories of his mother and the childhood that he had forced himself to forget.

However, it only fuelled his desire to continue to do so. Why stop when it became a little too much to bear? There were much more troubling events that were still locked away in his mind.

He had plenty of time on his hands- or rather paws- to think. If he didn't think about his past, then what else was there? He couldn't go back to questioning his abilities, or torturing himself over his appearance. Thinking back on simpler times, when he was young and innocent was what kept him sane, helped him regain some sense of control. Maybe he could learn something from his history, so that he wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

The way he saw it, it was painful to remember but it was also painful to forget. Either way, he could not win, so why deny himself of what he wanted to recollect? He had already tried forgetting, and it was clear to him that pushing those memories away hadn't done him any good when he was human.

Now it was time to remember.

Perhaps he could try to think back on something that was more joyous. Something that didn't take on a whole new meaning now compared to what it did back then, that didn't trouble him, or at least not too much.

The only problem was that some memories were faded, they didn't return to him as easily as others, as they had been buried in the depths of his mind for far too long, and needed something to bring them back to the light. Similar to how the playroom had helped him remember his mother's lullaby.

And so, a few days after - or maybe it was a few weeks, it didn't really matter- Beast had gone into the playroom, he decided to venture into another part of the castle that he hadn't been into for quite a while. He was visiting the gallery room.

The last time he recalled going into the gallery room was to get his family portrait moved to his room, which was only a few months before he became a beast. He hadn't had much of a reason to go in there afterwards, as the only portrait he really cared about was no longer on display.

But he wasn't there to marvel at the portraits of the old kings, nor gawk at some images depicting women in provocative poses and wearing little clothing. Although he may have done that at least once in his life.

Instead, he was there to admire a couple of portraits that he remembered loving as a child.

Beast ignored the other portraits and approached a painting of a large ship sailing on the high sea. He had never been sure what type of ship it was, and wondered if his curious younger self had ever asked about it. Perhaps it was a pirate ship, or voyager, or war vessel.

Whatever it may be, it was magnificent. The ship itself was huge, masterfully built, and had three masts with opened out white sails that caught the wind. Surrounding it was the ocean, the blue waves lapping up at the side of the boat, foaming with white froth.

The sky above the ship was blue, with white, fluffy clouds rolling across it. And in that crystal blue sky were a flock of gulls, soaring above the tall masts of the ship.

He ran his paw along the canvas, across the waves, whilst being mindful of his claws as to not damage it. If he closed his eyes, he could almost hear the roar of the sea, the howling wind and the screeching gulls.

Almost, but not quite. He didn't have as active of an imagination compared to when he was younger. When he was a boy, he would pretend to be battling pirates with a toy sword.

Children can often let their imaginations run wild. He certainly had. He once viewed the world with a sense of wonder. Everything had been new and mysterious and exciting, he had wanted to learn so much.

There was so much of the world he had not seen, places he wanted to go, perhaps travel on a boat just like the one in the painting, cross the sea and discover a whole new world. But now he'd never get the chance.

Why hadn't he seized the opportunity to travel when he had the chance? Not long before the transformation he didn't care about going... Well, anywhere. He would have rather stayed in his castle, with his servants and his money. He once had everything he wanted, why would he want to go anywhere else? He could read about the places he was mildly interested in, look at illustrations. Sure, he had been outside of the castle many times, visited other kingdoms with his father, taken trips to the other side of the country.

But now that he couldn't go anywhere, he found himself looking back and wishing he had done more, been more adventurous, gone to the furthest corners of the globe.

Maybe if his childlike wonderment had stayed with him in some form he would have travelled more, instead of staying in the comfort of his castle, where he could party all day and all night.

He didn't realise how good his life had once been, how much he had thrown away and taken for granted. You only miss something when it's gone.

Why did everything he tried to reminisce about become so tainted? No matter what, he always managed to poison it somehow. Even happy memories turned sower.

Beast turned away from the painting. It was time to move on and look at something else. Maybe if he didn't think too hard about it, he might actually be able to remember something fondly.

He continued to walk along the rows of paintings that ran up the walls to the ceiling. He wondered how you could admire some of the paintings that were pinned so high up that you could barely see them.

He paused when his eyes landed on a painting he didn't recall ever seeing. It was an image of Paris during twilight, the sky and clouds were so many different colours, there was orange and pink and purple, just to name a few. The sun was setting on the horizon, tinting the edges of the sky with a golden hue.

The buildings were just barely touched by the remains of the dimming sunlight, and he could only just see the silhouette of Notre Dame. There were shapes of other landmarks that he recognised, even if they were surrounded by inky blackness.

He had been to Paris quite a few times. He loved going there, it was a truly wonderful city.

On most visits to Paris he had gone with his father, but he had gone alone at least once. But there were two occasions where his mother and father, as well as himself, had gone together as a family. The first occasion was when he was just a baby, so he didn't remember it, but the second time they had all gone to Paris together, he had been around six or seven.

That day, they actually seemed like a happy family. His mother and father were getting along, no fighting or raised voices. Just calm conversations. Looking back, he almost convinced himself that he had imagined it, that it couldn't possibly have happened that way. But it did.

Maybe they were putting on a front for the public, so that they looked perfect in their eyes. But on the carriage ride there, his mother and father had seemed quite happy, both with themselves and each other, even though there was no one there to pretend for. Except for him.

He lifted his paw and ran it along the canvas as he thought hard, trying to picture that trip to Paris, to go back and relive that moment in the carriage ride.

He could hear the sound of a horses' hooves clattering against the stone walkway as it passed through the city, pulling the carriage. He could hear the wheels turning as they moved forward.

The young prince sat comfortably beside his mother, dressed smartly in a tiny waistcoat and suit jacket, which she had so kindly helped him put on. He lifted his feet off the floor of the carriage and kicked them back and forth as he waited patiently.

His father sat opposite, gazing at his mother, who caught him staring, and gave him a small smile, which he returned.

The carriage rocked as they hit a bump in the road. The young prince ended up sliding close to his mother, who caught him and kissed him on the head. "Why don't you take a quick peak out the window?" She suggested.

The young prince grinned and shuffled over to the door and pulled back the crimson curtains, revealing the window to him.

"Whoa, I can see Notre Dame!" He exclaimed. "It's even bigger than I imagined."

"You've been there before, you know." His father told him.

"I have?" The young prince questioned.

He nodded "Yes, but you were only a baby when we took you. It's where we had you christened."

"It was also the first time that the public got to see the newborn prince." His mother chimed in "And they all fell in love the moment they saw your sweet little face." She added, squeezing his cheek.

"Can we go again?" He asked "I really want to see the bell tower."

"I don't see why not." His mother replied.

"But I have some important business to attend to, we're not here to sight see-" His father stopped when the young prince looked up at him with pleading eyes.

The King sighed "Alright, I suppose we could make a stop on the way back. Perhaps we could go see a few other important monuments."

"I'd love to see all of them!" The young prince exclaimed excitedly. "I've seen a few of them in books, but never the real thing!"

"Well, your father and I can't wait to show you around the city." His mother responded. "Once he's done with his 'very important business', of course." She added.

"What will we be doing?" The young prince questioned.

"There's a party being held tonight, and we've been invited. There are several lords and ladies and dukes going." His mother told him.

"Will there be other children there?"

"I think so. Perhaps you could make some friends." She suggested.

"I'd like that." He replied, nodding happily.

"They'll be music and dancing too." She added.

"Dancing?! Oh I can't wait!" He cried. "Will you be joining us, father?" He asked, leaning towards him.

"I shall be joining the party a little while after it starts." He informed him.

"You can come dance with mother and I." The young prince said.

"I look forward to it, although I'm not a very good dancer, not like you or your mother." He replied.

"Don't worry, it'll be fun!" The young prince cheered.

"I'm sure it will be." His father responded, looking over at the Queen, who nodded in agreement.

The carriage came to a steady halt "Well, here is where I must leave you both." He stated, taking hold of his wife's hand and kissing it and then patting his son on the head. "I shall see you both in a little while."

"You will make time for us and the party later, won't you?" His mother asked as he was about to leave.

He glanced back at her and nodded "Of course." He replied, as the carriage driver opened the door for him and allowed the King to step out "Farewell." He said, waving at them as the door was shut once more.

His mother pulled the young prince close to her as the carriage started moving once again "Don't be disappointed if he doesn't show up later, Adam. Your father is a very busy man."

"He'll be there." He protested "I know he will be."

He could tell that his mother didn't think he would make it to the party, but his father did, surprising her greatly. It was good to see him act upon his word, that he pleased his mother, and they were able to enjoy themselves as a family.

Unfortunately, they weren't able to make time for sightseeing the day after, as his father had more important business to attend to. If made Beast wonder if his father had postponed his meeting the night before just so he could spend quality time with his family.

He smiled faintly and took his paw off of the canvas. But that same smile faded quicker than it appeared.

That was a nice thought, but no. His father would never put his family before royal duties.

But sightseeing didn't matter, because for the first time in what felt like forever, the young prince had been with his mother and father, and they had generally seemed happy.

Besides, they both promised him that the next time they were in Paris, they would make as much time for sightseeing as possible. They didn't take into account the possibility of his mother falling ill. It was the last time they went all together, so at least it was pleasant.

Maybe it all was just fabricated. Maybe they had been trying to get along, for his sake, as it was his first time visiting Paris that he'd be able to remember, so they wanted to make it special for him, so they shoved their differences aside.

But Beast didn't care what it was. He was just glad that there was a point in his that he could look back on where there was no fighting, no arguing, no harsh words thrown at each other. His father didn't strike out, he didn't hurt her. There was just peacefulness.

It was perfect, almost too good to be true. He wished they could have had more moments like that spent together, but as he looked back now, he realised that it was the only memory he had where he saw his mother and father together and they weren't at each other's throats.

Maybe that's why it was so memorable.

* * *

 **A/N - I've decided that this weekend I'm going to give you not one, but two chapters! Today and tomorrow! Because I love you all so much! I hope you enjoy them both! Let me know what you think.**


	9. Chapter 8 - Reunited at Last

**Chapter 8 - Reunited at Last**

Beast stared at the enchanted book, his breath shaking as he reached out his paw, whilst his other paw clutched his old, worn fairy tale book.

How had he gotten to this point you may ask? Why was he using one of the magical items he had sworn to never touch?

The answer is simple. He wanted to see his mother.

It was a few months after he had tried different methods to reconnect with his childhood. After visiting his playroom and the gallery, he had spent a couple of days looking at all of his old toys and remembering the games he used to play with them.

After a while, his desire to recollect on his past had faded. There wasn't much else to think about, as the remaining memories he hadn't thought about weren't as special, and some were rather unpleasant. But earlier that day, Mrs Potts had told him something that drove him into wanting to use the enchanted book.

It started out like any other day of his miserable existence. He got up, checked the rose, lingered in his room for a while, and then headed downstairs for breakfast.

He sat at the long, empty table in front of his already prepared meal, and was about to tuck in when Mrs Potts approached him on her trolley.

"I don't want any tea." He dismissed her before she could even speak.

"I don't want to talk to you about tea. At least not today." She responded.

"Oh?" He replied. That was odd, that's all they ever spoke to each other about, at least nowadays, as there wasn't anything else to say. Their interactions had deteriorated to the point where the only words that escaped their mouths were 'would you like some tea?' or 'more tea?' and the only thing he could say in response was either 'yes' or 'no'.

She sighed "I've debated with myself for a long time, about whether or not I should tell you this. This other servants urged me not to, told me that it wasn't fair on you. So I've been holding back on telling you this for the past few years but... But ever since you started trying to find some sort of meaning from your past-"

She noticed? Was it really that obvious?

"-I felt like I owed it to you."

"Just spit it out already." He grumbled. He just wanted to eat. The animal instinct that lurked away inside of him, clawing at the back of his mind, wanted to shovel it all down his throat in an instant. _It_ was simply driven by hunger. And he partly was too.

Mrs Potts knew that his patience was wearing thin, so she decided to cut the chase. "Today... is the anniversary of your mother's death." She told him, her voice hushed.

Beast had suddenly lost his appetite and covered his mouth with his paw. His other paw gripped the table, his claws chipping away at the wood. He was silent for a moment, as it slowly began to sink in. He had never known when exactly his mother had died... Until now. Why had he never asked? His father didn't want him to know about it, but he had been free to do so for a long time.

He lowered his paw and glanced at Mrs Potts, who was staring at him with sorrowful eyes "Why are you telling me this now?" He asked.

"Because I thought it was the right thing to do. It's time you knew the truth. I'm sorry that I kept it from you for so long..." She responded, before turning and wheeling away on the trolley.

"Wait!" He almost shouted, causing Mrs Potts to immediately come back. "What was she like... in her final days?" He asked. He needed to know, because he hadn't been there to see it himself.

Mrs Potts sighed sadly "She was in a lot of pain... She could hardly breathe. She kept asking for you, begging us to bring you to her, but we couldn't... because you weren't there. She didn't understand, she wasn't fully aware of what was going on. She just wanted to see you, one last time."

Beast lowered his head sadly. His jaw was clenched and his throat felt like it was closing up. He could feel tears forming in his eyes, but he blinked rapidly in order to fight them back. "Did she say anything before she..." He trailed off, he could barely speak, his voice was cracking.

It seemed that Mrs Potts knew what he was trying to say. "She never stopped talking about you. You were the apple of her eye, everyone could see that the one thing on her mind was you." She paused for a moment, as if she was holding back, not wanting to go on. "Before she died, she told me to tell you that... She loved you, and that she would always love you and... No matter what, you should be the person that you choose to be, don't let anyone change you into something that you are not." She finished.

Beast hung his head in shame. His mother's dying wish was that he shouldn't let anyone influence him, and he had done the complete opposite. If he had known, maybe he would have resisted, maybe he would have ignored his father's teachings. But... But that was something his mother had always wanted, for him to be his own person, not just on her death bed.

He had failed her.

Beast let out an angered cry and in one swift motion he pushed all the food off the table, and it fell to the floor, several plates shattering on impact.

Breathing heavily, he gritted his teeth and glanced at Mrs Potts, who wasn't as startled as she should have been. She was starting to become numb to this kind of behaviour. They all were.

"I'll get someone to clean that up." She muttered. As she was on her way out, she paused and looked back at him "Master, don't be too hard on yourself about it. You couldn't have known. If there was one thing I could do over in my life... I would have told you much sooner, whenever I had the chance."

"Where was she buried?" He asked, completely ignoring her words of comfort.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you because I don't know for certain. Your father had the funeral arrangements prepared."

"He did?" He questioned. Of course he did. If there was one person that knew where his mother was buried, it would be his father. "He knew all this time... And he never took me to see her...?"

Mrs Potts was silent. "I really should go get someone to clean that up." She murmured, shifting her attention back on to the mess of food and broken plates on the floor.

"While you're doing that, ask one of the servants to go into the library and collect the enchanted book for me... It's on one of the far shelves."

"I thought you said-" she began, probably about how he said he never wanted to use it.

"I know what I said!" He snapped "Just ask someone to get it for me."

"... As you wish, master." She obeyed, before leaving the room.

Once she was gone, Beast slumped back in the chair and rubbed his neck with his paw. He wasn't really sure what he had planned, truth be told he wasn't really thinking straight right now, but he had to see his mother. And the book would be able to take him to her.

While he waited, he quickly went and collected his old fairy tale book from the playroom. He wanted to take it with him, as it was one of the few things that he and his mother read together.

When he returned to the dining room, the enchanted book was already there, opened up and waiting for him.

And so, here we are, back in the present. Beast hesitated for a moment, before reaching out and placing his paw on the pages of the book.

He didn't know where it would take him. But wherever it was, at least she would be there. They'd be together again.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the image of his mother, willing the book to take him to her place of burial.

After a few seconds, his paw phased through the book and his eyes shot open. The book was no longer there, and neither was the table, or the dining room. He wasn't in the castle anymore.

He glanced around, trying to get his bearings. He was outside, standing on top of a large hill in the early hours of morning. Behind him were wide open fields, stretching out as far as the eye could see. And in the other direction was the village, or at least what he could see of it, as the only thing that was visible was the roof of the clock tower peaking up from the valley, as he was a fair amount of distance away. It was the same village he had taxed so harshly to fund his parties. The rising sun that was coming up behind another set of hills on the other side of valley was assaulting his eyes, and he was forced to turn away.

There was a thicket at the edge of the sloping hills, with large trees stretching up towards the black and orange tinted sky. If he had to guess, he would say that his castle was in that direction.

The hill that he was on had a large apple tree, with its leaves and branches hanging over him. And at the roots of the tree... Was his mother's grave.

Why was she here? So far from the castle? He had expected more than this, for her to be buried somewhere like Paris, not here. Did anyone even know she was here? Did his father want her to have a private resting place, was that it?

Or was she buried here so that she could be forgotten?

Her tombstone was faded, the writing barely visible. Had no one taken care of it, taken care of her?

Did anyone even visit her?

He glanced over at the thicket once more, at the long line of trees that seemed to go on forever. She had been so close, and yet so far. Just a short carriage ride and walk away.

He could have seen her any time he wanted if he had only known. If he had visited the neighbouring village at least once in his life and not avoided it, he probably would have seen her. Perhaps catch a glimpse.

His legs shook before buckling underneath him and he collapsed onto his knees. The wet grass below his feet softened the fall. It must have rained the night before.

He knew she was dead, but... Seeing her grave now, after all this time, it brought back all the pain and sorrow he had felt when he lost her. He felt like he was losing her all over again.

He lifted his paw and gently ran a finger along the engraved writing. 'Loving Queen, Wife, and Mother. May she Rest in Peace.'

He lowered his paw and gripped the wet grass. He remembered his mother mentioning once that she loved looking at the little town from the hillside, that the view was beautiful and that she would take him to see it one day. But she never did. His father didn't like her going near there, because of the peasants.

Is this what she requested? So that she could, in a sense, look over the little town even in death? Or was this his father's doing? Was this his mother's special place, that his father knew about, and wanted her to be laid to rest here?

He had so many questions and no one to answer them.

He gripped the wet grass tighter and ended up ripping some blades from the earth. Did she really rest in peace, like the gravestone said?

He could only hope.

"Hello, mother." He greeted softly, placing his paw on top of the gravestone. "It's been an awful long time." He murmured, chuckling half-heartedly. "I brought you my fairy tale book. Do you remember it? You used to read it to me all the time when I was younger."

Silence. The only sound that could be heard was the wind rushing over the hill, rustling the leaves and blowing his fur.

He placed the book down in front of the grave. "I'll let you hang onto it, I don't have much of a use for it anymore."

He intended on leaving it there, hopefully it would be sheltered by the tree and wouldn't get damaged.

He went quiet again and stared solemnly at the grave. The grass in front of it would have once been unearthed soil. That must have been so long ago.

Beast had been holding back his emotions for so long. There were several moments where he had almost broke down, but managed to keep his composure. 'Crying is a sign of weakness' his father used to say.

He was tired of bottling up his feelings.

He finally caved.

He choked up and hot tears streamed down his face, staining his fur. "I miss you. I miss you so much." He whimpered, clutching his head as he continued to sob.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't there when you died. I wanted to be, I really did, and I wish I could have been there for you but father wouldn't allow it." He sobbed. "I'm so sorry that I didn't come and see you until now."

He fell on top of the mound of soil and grass, knowing that his mother was buried underneath the earth, and this was the closest he'd ever be able to get to her. "I just want you back." He cried, sniffling softly.

His whole body shook as he lie there on the ground, below the apple tree.

He lay there for quite some time, shaking and weeping, with his tears and snot covered face pressed against the wet grass. Just when he thought he had no tears left, more came trickling down his cheeks.

He felt something warm touch his back. For a moment, his crying stopped, and he lifted his head and looked over his shoulder to see that it was the sun's rays that were shining on him.

He slowly got to his feet and turned and watched as the sunlight touched every inch of the hillside and valley, causing the rain covered grass to glisten in its golden glow.

He stood and stared in awe, his mouth hanging open. He glanced over his shoulder at his mother's grave "You were right, mother..." He murmured, looking back at the scenery "The view is beautiful from up here." His voice was hoarse after sobbing.

He breathed in the fresh country air and then exhaled deeply. It felt good, to feel the warm sun on his fur, to just stand there and soak it in. He hadn't been outside in years. He felt at peace here. Now that he was with her, whether she was alive or not.

He turned back to her "I wish I could have seen it with you."

He glanced down at the valley, and noticed a group of about four silhouettes on horse back riding up a trail on the other hillside.

They were hunters no doubt, and that meant it was time for him to leave. He couldn't linger for too long out in broad daylight, where he could be spotted.

He walked up to the grave once more and knelt down in front of it. "I have to go now... I would like to stay longer, but I can't..." He trailed off "I'm sorry that I didn't stay true to myself. I failed you, in so many ways. But I hope that, wherever you are now... You can forgive me... For everything that I've done." He finished.

"Goodbye... Mother." He whispered.

And just like that, his surroundings faded away, and he was back inside the dining room.

He lifted his paw and wiped his tear stained face. He felt drained, after crying so much, like all the emotion had been sucked out of him, and he was left as an empty vessel.

His fur was wet, and had blades of grass tangled up in it, and his trousers and cloak were rather damp. If he didn't smell like wet dog before, he certainly did now.

He grimaced. He'd go clean himself up but... What was the point? He'd just wait for his fur to dry and brush off the grass later.

He noticed that the broken plates and food had been cleaned up as he left the dining room. As he was making his way over to the staircase, he heard Mrs Potts' voice behind him.

"Are you alright, master?" She asked concernedly.

He paused, but kept his back to her. "I'm fine." He lied. "Just see to it that the enchanted book is put back in the library." He told her, as he walked up the stairs.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" She asked.

He paused once more. "You could say that." He murmured, before hurrying up the stairs, towards the West Wing. He couldn't let her see that he was upset. That he had cracked.

On the way there, he stopped when he caught sight of the door leading to his father's study.

Seeing it now, it reminded him of his mother, buried alone on that hill, with no one to visit her.

He could have seen her... If his father had told him where she was buried.

He felt his anger and animosity that he held towards his father start to boil over. He stormed towards the door and burst through it.

There was his father, in picture form, hanging on the wall. Beast snarled and rush towards the portrait.

"Why didn't you take me to see her?!" He shouted angrily.

The portrait didn't answer.

"You knew where she was, she is only a carriage ride away, and you never took me to see her!" He cried. "Did you even care about her, at all?! Did you even care about me, about how I felt?!"

"Or was the only thing that mattered to you was turning me into a suitable heir?! Turning me into- turning me into you!" He exclaimed.

He glanced down at his wretched body, the mangled, long brown fur and large paws and claws. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth. "This is all your fault!" He shouted, opening his eyes and clawing at the portrait, shredding his father's image, over and over and over again.

"It's all your fault!" He shouted again as he scratched at the canvas, until his father was barely visible behind the claw marks. But he wasn't done yet. He was only getting started. He grabbed hold of the picture frame and began to pry it off the wall. The wooden frame creaked and cracked, and he moved out of the way as it toppled off the wall and collided with the desk, breaking it apart.

"It's all your fault... It's all your fault... It's all your fault..." He repeated, his voice shaking as he stumbled back from the carnage.

But was it his father's fault? Could all of the blame solely rest on him? He wasn't there when Beast refused the rose. He wasn't around all that much in his later life, he went on trips, the former prince could have asked around, tried to find out where his mother was buried. It wouldn't have taken a lot of effort to find out.

He didn't have to listen to a word his father said. He could have pretended to be the person his father trained him up to be, taken on a persona but kept his mother's teachings close to heart. He didn't have to act the way he had that landed him in this mess. He didn't have to act like his father. He didn't have to let himself become something worse than him.

So... If it wasn't his father's fault... Then who's was it?

Beast fell back again the wall, the tips of his horns scrapping against it as he slumped down, curling himself up on the floor.

"It's all my fault." He whimpered, tears streaming down his cheeks as he took hold of his legs and pulled them close to his chest. "It's all my fault..."

* * *

 **A/N - Here's the other chapter I promised for this weekend! We'll be going back to one per week after this though :(**

 **I realise that in the movie, the Prince most likely was there to see his mother die. It's not exactly clear in the final version wherever she was or wasn't dead when he was singing to her. I'm not trying to be completely accurate to the movie, and I think its more tragic and makes for a compelling story if the Prince wasn't there when she died. You'll see it expanded upon more in later chapters. I hope you like the direction I'm going in with this.**

 **I also hope you enjoyed this double chapter weekend special thing or whatever this was! You never know, I might do it again, hint hint.**

 **Let me know what you thought of these two and I'll see you next week.**


	10. Chapter 9 - What Might Have Been

**Chapter 9 - What Might Have Been**

Five years. Five years of enduring this madness, all this pain and suffering.

Beast wasn't sure how much further he could fall into despair. Would there ever be an end point?

He knew that it had been five years because Cogsworth had told him. The head of the house had always been good at keeping track of time, but Beast wasn't sure as to why he even bothered. Knowing how long it had been only made him feel worse.

He felt a little less human every passing day. He often tried to think back, to how his old body felt, his bare skin with no fur, his long blonde hair that reached his shoulders... But he couldn't remember. He was so used to his body now, the feeling of unease about himself had gone.

He hated that. He didn't want it to feel normal, nothing about his body was normal.

It was frightening, to think that his human self had become a distant memory. He couldn't imagine how he might feel after more time passed. Would he even be able to remember what he used to look like?

Sometimes he thought back to the first couple of days after the transformation. His hope that a maiden might one day break the curse hadn't lasted very long.

It was obvious that none of the maidens from the dance party would ever return to the castle. He had given up on that possibility several years ago.

He wondered what had become of the maidens after they fled the castle. Did the Enchantress use her magic to send them all back to wherever they came from? Erased all memory of him from their minds too?

Wherever they were, they were all probably living a much more care free life compared to him.

He often asked himself what he would do if a young woman turned up on his doorstep one day. How would he even attempt to woe her when he was so hideous?

He was no stranger when it came to courting women. He had successfully wooed quite a few in the past. The only problem was that his beauty had greatly assisted him back then. Without it, his charm was gone. Plus, he had lost all of his confidence. He wouldn't know where to begin when trying to talk to her.

He tried to remember a few of the women he had courted in his time, at all the chances he had been given at a better life, but they were all rather hazy in his mind. The only one that stuck out was his first love, if you could even call it that. The more appropriate thing to call her was the first woman he had ever gained the affection of. Although he hadn't returned it.

* * *

It was summer. The baking sun was high in the crystal clear blue sky, as the Prince stood out in the garden, surrounded by dozens of guests, sipping champagne and chatting amongst themselves, as well as eating some of the horderves that were being served to them on silver platters by the servants.

It was a garden party. He couldn't quite remember what it was in celebration of. His birthday perhaps?

No, his father would never go to such efforts to celebrate his birthday. His birthday had more often than not been a grand celebration, but it would never have been this grand. He knew that he had been around eighteen or nineteen at the time.

The Prince was admiring a beautiful young maiden from afar. She had ebony black hair, that was neatly tied up and fastened into a bunch. She wore a light blue dress, that had a tight corset that showed off her slim figure, but opened out at the bodice, and reached down to the floor. The lower hem of her dressed was folded up all the way around the skirt, revealing a star-like pattern on the white under layer. In her white gloved hand she held a blue parasol, that was shading her from the hot sun.

She was absolutely stunning. She was positively glowing in the daylight.

A heavy hand landed on the Prince's shoulder, startling him a little. "Quite a catch, wouldn't you say?" He heard his father ask.

"Definitely." He agreed, unable to take his eyes off her.

"Stop gawping at her, she'll catch you staring." His father warned, putting his hand to the Prince's face and making him turn his head towards him. "Honestly, anyone would think you haven't seen a woman before."

"Sorry, father." He apologised. He wasn't sure what came over him.

"No need to worry about it my dear boy." His father replied, patting him on the shoulder.

"Do you know who she is?" The Prince asked, glancing back over at the raven-haired maiden.

"Yes. She's the daughter to quite a rich Lord. Angelica, her name is." His father informed him.

The Prince stared at her, lost in a daze, completely captivated by her beauty.

His father laughed "Well don't just stand there, go talk to her!" The King encouraged him, slapping him on the back and pushing him forwards. His son stumbled and nearly fell over.

The Prince glanced back at him nervously. "Go on!" He urged. "I know for a fact that the son I brought up isn't afraid of talking to women. Now go talk to her!" It sounded like he was commanding him now, instead of cheering him on.

The Prince straightened up, and stood tall and proud. He cleared his throat, and adjusted his suit jacket, before striding across the garden towards the unsuspecting maiden.

Luckily for him, she had just finished her conversation with an older woman as he approached.

Now that he got a closer look, he noticed that despite her pale complexion, she had a number of freckles dotting her face. But they only added to her beauty.

"Hello." He greeted. She turned to face him, and allowed him to take hold of her gloved hand. The material was so soft and finely textured, he couldn't help but run his thumb across it. "Prince Adam. It's a pleasure to meet you." He said, kissing her hand. He met her gaze, and a pair of shimmering grey eyes stared back.

"Angelica. And the pleasure is all mine, Prince Adam." She responded, curtsying to him. Her voice was posh, which was to be expected from a high class individual such as herself. It was also warm and inviting, as well as pleasing to the ear.

Whatever nervousness he had felt when watching her earlier, or when he had walked over, had completely melted away.

He let go of her hand and smiled "Might I say, you look ravishing in that dress." He complimented her.

"Why thank you. You look very smart today as well." She replied.

"Are you enjoying the party?" He asked.

"I am. There's nothing like spending time at a garden party on a hot summer's day. I just hope I don't end up burning."

"I'm sure your parasol will shield you from the sun and keep your skin looking nice and pale." He replied.

"True. This trusty little thing hasn't let me down in the past." She said, twirling it in her hand. "So, Prince Adam, what brings you here?" She questioned.

"Well, I saw a beautiful looking woman over here and I just knew I had to come over and talk to her." He responded flirtatiously.

"And I saw a rather handsome looking gentleman come this way." She flirted back. "But I hope you find the girl you're looking for." She played along.

"I think I already have." He stated with a sly grin.

She laughed. Her laugh was soft and just as pleasing to hear as her voice. "You flatter me, Prince Adam."

"Please, just call me Adam."

"Is that what you tell all the women you flirt with?" She questioned.

"I don't know, you'd be the first." He told her.

She chuckled, and drew closer to him, placing her hand on his chest "Well in that case, you can just call me Angie." She whispered, and he felt her hot breath on his cheek.

He thought that he might feel something, perhaps quiver with delight, or experience a tingling sensation. But he didn't feel anything.

Was this supposed to work out differently? He thought that he'd feel more for his first true encounter with a maiden.

He shrugged off his uncertainties and placed his hand on top of her's "Can I get you anything, Angie?" He asked.

"You could run and get me a glass of champagne, if you don't mind." She responded.

"Not at all." He replied, kissing her hand as he parted with her "Don't go anywhere."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

He walked away, and headed over to one of the servants that was carrying a tray of champagne. As he picked up a glass, he quickly snatched up an horderve from another tray from a passing servant and nibbled on it.

"How is it going with you and Angelica?" His father asked, coming to stand beside him.

"It's going well, I think." The Prince replied, glancing over in her direction to see her standing and waiting patiently.

"Good... That's good." The King responded, looking over at her as well. "Why don't you two go somewhere to talk in private?" His father suggested.

"What about the party?" The Prince questioned.

"Oh I'm sure you won't be gone that long, no one will even notice you're missing."

"Alright, if you say so..." He murmured. "Where should I take her?" He then asked.

"I'll leave you to figure that out." His father answered, before turning and walking away, to go and speak with some lords.

The Prince inhaled and then exhaled deeply, before going over to Angelica once again. "Here you are." He said, handing her the champagne.

"Thank you kindly." She responded, taking the tall glass from him and sipping some of the alcohol. "Why didn't you get one for yourself?"

"I don't drink." He admitted. "Well, truthfully, I've never tried any."

"Would you like some?" She asked, offering him her glass.

He was quiet for a moment as he contemplated. He then shrugged "Alright." He replied, taking the glass and sipping some of the sparkling, bubbling liquid. "Hmm." He pondered, whilst savouring the taste "Not bad." He commented, before handing it back to her.

Angelica continued drinking as he glanced around, trying to figure out where the two of them could go. Back to the castle perhaps? Or maybe to another part of the garden?

That's when he had an idea.

"Would you like me to give you a tour around the gardens?" He asked her.

Angelica smiled "I would love that." She replied "Let me just finish my drink."

"Fair enough." He said. He stood and waited patiently, as he thought she might be a while, but was amazed when he saw Angelica down the remnants of her champagne in one go.

One of the servants came over and collected her glass. "Let's go." She declared cheerfully.

The Prince offered her his arm and she linked up with him as they walked across the grass to the gravel path.

Angelica's dressed followed her every movement, swaying as she walked. It was like she was wearing a fluffy cloud made of velvet.

"I saw you with your father earlier. Are you two close?" She asked him.

"Sort of. It's complicated." He answered.

"What do you mean by that?" She questioned further.

"We weren't very close when I was younger. That was when..." He trailed off for a moment "When my mother was still around." He murmured.

Angelica gave him a sympathetic look.

"We don't talk about her." He explained. "At least when we can avoid it."

"It's a touchy subject, I understand. You don't have to say anymore." She told him, giving him a reassuring pat on the arm.

The death of his mother was well known at this point, but no one spoke of it. She was dead and buried. People had moved on. Everyone expected him to as well.

The two continued to chat for a while, about each other's likes and dislikes. He told her that he liked to hunt and read, and she told him that she loved to paint. He also learnt that she could play the flute, and she announced that she would happily play for him some time.

Eventually, the two reached a stone bridge, overlooking a large pond. They stopped in the middle of the bridge and stared at the water, as it rippled and glistened in the sunlight.

"This garden is quite beautiful. It seems to stretch out for miles. Just when I think I've seen it all, something else catches my eye." Angelica stated, placing her gloved hands on the wall of the bridge and leaning forwards, and peering over the side at her reflection in the water.

"It's magnificent." The Prince agreed. "I find some of it breath taking, despite the fact that I've seen it all so many times."

She turned to him, and examined his face for a moment. She then lifted her hand and twirled her fingers through his blonde locks. "Your hair is very long." She commented.

He chuckled "You've only just noticed?"

"I just found myself getting lost in your eyes." She admitted, smiling dreamingly.

"You're not the only one that's noticed. My father wants me to get it cut. He says that I should have it in a bob, but I prefer it like this."

"I'm sure your hair will look good on you no matter what." She told him. "Although, cutting it is probably a good idea. It's almost as long as mine!"

"How long is yours?" He questioned, glancing at the neat bunch on top of her head.

"I'd have to show you." She replied.

"Will you show me right now?" He requested.

"Oh, I don't know, it took me a very long time to get it like this and I normally don't wear it down for anyone" She responded in an exaggerated tone, whilst fluttering her eyelashes and giving him the doe eyes. "Maybe if you ask nicely."

"Please?" He requested again. "I've always loved seeing women with long hair."

She grinned "Alright, you've twisted my arm." She then folded in her parasol and passed it to him "Hold this, please."

Angelica lifted her arms and took hold of the bunch of black hair on top of her head in one hand. With the other hand, she pulled the grip out, and let go of the bunch. Her black hair fell perfectly down, with a wisp of it falling just between her eyes.

Her flowing locks ran just passed her shoulders, and blew gently in the summer breeze. "Well, what do you think?" She asked, after a short period of silence of him staring at her in awe.

The Prince took a step closer and ran his fingers through her strands of hair. "And just when I thought you couldn't get any more beautiful."

"Oh stop, you're making me blush." She responded bashfully, giving him a push, which was more of a light tap. Her cheeks were flushed pure red.

"Here's your parasol." He said, handing it back to her.

She smiled in gratitude and took it from him. But as she was opening it up, a strong gust of wind blew passed, and sent Angelica's parasol flying out of her hand and onto the surface of the pond. "Oh no!" She exclaimed.

"Don't worry, I'll go fetch it for you." He declared, gallantly stepping off of the bridge and picking up the nearest and longest stick he could find.

Using the stick as a tool, he hooked the parasol and dragged it over the surface of the water and pulled it to edge. Once it was in arms reach, he stretched out his hand and claimed the parasol back from the murky depths of the water that had almost swallowed it up. He held it high above his head, as if it were some amazing feat, that he had managed to fish it out of the pond.

He hurried back over to Angelica and presented it to her with pride. "Your parasol, my lady." He stated, pretending to be a heroic knight.

"What a gentlemen." She breathed, clasping her hands to her chest. She was clearly playing along with him. They were exaggerating quite a bit, having fun with each other, but he was more than happy to fetch her parasol for her, and she was most grateful to have it back.

"It's a little wet but I'm sure it will dry." He told her, as she took it back from him. 'A little' was an understatement, as it was soaked completely, and water was dripping off of it.

"That's fine. Thank you for getting it back for me." She said gratefully.

"It was no trouble, Angie." He replied, smiling at her.

She propped her parasol up against the wall of the bridge and drew closer to him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "You know, Adam, I don't think I've ever felt this way around anyone before. There's something about you... You just make my heart melt." She whispered. Their faces were close together now, mere inches apart.

"And I think you're the most fun and interesting and beautiful girl I've ever met."

She was the only girl his age he had ever met.

"You say the nicest things." She murmured.

And then he kissed her. He closed the small gap between them and his lips met her's. He then pulled away quickly, and watched as the largest smile he thought he had ever seen emerged on Angelica's face.

She kissed him back. Her hands tugged at his suit jacket, and then moved up to his head, and ran through his hair. She then touched his face and cradled his cheeks.

He wished she would touch him properly, without the gloves. He wanted skin on skin contact. He had never been touched in such an affectionate way, except maybe... when his mother was still around, she would always stroke his cheeks. He hadn't had that kind of interaction in years, his father was never affectionate. He yearned to be touched... But the gloves ruined it for him somewhat.

Would she take them off if he asked? What was the point of breaking this moment, just to take off a pair of gloves?

He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up, and sat her down on the edge of the bridge. He drew closer still, her dress and endless layers of fabric surrounding his lower body as he started kissing her feverishly, moving from her lips to her cheek, and then down her chin and finally to her neck.

Angelica leaned her head back as he planted hot kisses on her neck. She moaned with delight.

And then he stopped. Angelica was clearly enjoying this, but him... He thought that he would feel more, perhaps a burning passion and desire for her. Some sort of spark, or anything, that would hint that she was the one for him, his perfect match. It felt good to kiss her, yes... But that was about it.

All he felt for her was lust. And that wasn't love.

His mind was whirling. He didn't know what to do, or think. Should he keep going? He just didn't know. All of his uncertainties from before were resurfacing. Was the only reason he liked her was because of her beauty?

Angelica kissed him again, but she met his lips poorly, causing their noses to clash. But that didn't faze her, as she started kissing every corner, nook and cranny of his mouth.

"Stop, stop!" He said, his words muffled by the kisses. He pulled away and Angelica gave him a confused look.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"This is just... This is all just moving too fast." He told her breathlessly.

"We can take it slower if you like." She replied.

"No, that's not it." He responded, shaking his head "I'm sorry, Angie, you're beautiful, you really are but... I just don't think you're right for me."

"What do you mean? I thought we were getting on so well." She questioned.

"We were! It's just... I thought I would feel more than this."

"More? Are you saying I'm not good enough for you, is that it?" She questioned, her brow furrowing. There was a sense of anger in her tone. He must have offended her.

"No, I think you're wonderful! I... I don't have strong feelings for you, that's all." He admitted.

"Then why did you kiss me?" She asked.

"I thought it was what I wanted, and what you wanted me to do." He replied.

"But you don't want me?"

He shook his head "No... Not when I don't love you." He replied. "I'm sorry, Angie." He apologised.

"It's fine, it doesn't matter." She muttered coldly as she moved passed him and collected her parasol. Clearly it did matter to her.

"Angie, wait!" He called after her.

"Don't call me that!" She snapped, whipping her head around and giving him a scornful look. She breathed deeply and quickly regained her composure "Good day to you, Prince Adam." She said, bowing her head and walking away from him. The heels of her shoes clattered against the cobbles as she left.

That was his opportunity to go after her, to win her back, beg her to give him a second chance.

But he didn't. Instead he remained where he was and silently watched her go.

If he wasn't sure if he loved her or not before, he certainly was now. He would have fought for her if he wanted her in his life.

His eyes didn't even linger on her for long, and he turned his attention to the pond. He watched as the breeze rushed across the water, causing it to ripple.

He glanced down at his reflection and straightened his hair that Angelica had ruffled up. He then adjusted his suit jacket that she had tugged at.

"Well done, Adam. You blew it." He told his reflection.

He shook his head and walked over the bridge, taking the opposite path to Angelica and heading back to the party.

His father was waiting for him when he arrived. "So, how did it go with Angelica?" He asked curiously.

"Not very well." The Prince sighed.

"Oh? Why not?" His father questioned.

"We started kissing but... I didn't get that feeling from it."

"What feeling?"

"You know, a spark, something that lets you know that you've chosen right. That this is the only person meant for you." He told him.

His father gave him a confused look. He didn't understand one bit.

"I just wasn't in love with her, father." The Prince stated.

"Love?" The King almost scoffed. "Son, we've talked about this. Love doesn't have anything to do with it. What matters is that you find a woman worthy of your hand. I thought Angelica was perfect for you."

His father probably only thought the money that Angelica would inherit from her father was perfect.

"Wait, were you trying to set me up with her?" The Prince questioned. "Is that what this whole garden party was for?"

"Partly. But it wasn't just about that." His father replied. "Look, son, there are dozens of maidens lined up seeking for a chance to be your wife. You can't turn them down just because you don't 'love' them. If I had married for love, I wouldn't have married your mother in the first place."

"I thought you said that you married her because your father had arranged it." The Prince argued.

It was true. His father had told him, perhaps multiple times after his mother's passing, that their marriage was arranged. In fact, the first time he ever laid eyes on her was when he lifted up the veil at their wedding.

"Yes. It was. And that's why I'm giving you this opportunity to pick your wife, so that you don't end up saddled with someone you can't stand." He told him. "You should be grateful. You wouldn't want me to have to arrange your marriage for you."

"I'm sure you would pick wisely, if you were to do so, father."

The Prince only said that to please him.

"But I'm grateful that you've given me this choice."

"I'm glad." His father responded. He placed both hands on his shoulders and squeezed them rather tightly. "Listen, son. Forget about love, it's not important in the grand scheme of things. It seems nice at first, but it quickly fades, leaving you stuck with a person you no longer care for. What's important is that you find a woman that can be loyal, and stand by your side through thick and thin, as well as provide you with a worthy heir. What matters is that you find a woman that can provide for you, and the kingdom."

"I know, father, you've told me this before." The Prince mumbled dismissively.

"Well, you clearly haven't listened. It's gone in one ear and come out the other." He commented. "I'll admit that maybe Angelica wasn't right for you, but there are plenty of other maidens just waiting to meet you."

"You said there were dozens. Are you going to keep throwing garden parties and inviting one every time?" The Prince questioned.

"No, that would take far too long. Perhaps we should organise something else, so that you could meet them all at once." His father suggested.

"Maybe..." He muttered indifferently.

"I have a list of them, I'll show you it, so that you can pick out a few." The King insisted. "Just make sure you don't turn them down on the basis that you don't 'love' them when you've only just met them."

"Yes, father. I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking." He apologised.

"It's alright, son. Your mother used to fill your head with such nonsense. But don't worry, just remember what I taught you, and you should be fine."

* * *

He had been so conflicted for the longest time. Torn between what his mother and father had taught him. His mother said that he should marry a woman for love above all else, but his father said that he should marry a woman that would be his loyal provider, to help him advance the kingdom and carry on his lineage. It's what his father strongly believed, and what his father before him believed too. It went back centuries. Without his mother there to argue, or counter his father... That belief eventually became his own.

He saw Angelica a few times after that day, but they weren't on good terms. With his father's mindset, Beast had convinced himself that the reason he and Angelica's relationship didn't work out wasn't his fault, but her's. She wasn't good enough for him.

How utterly foolish.

She was the first to fall for him, but certainly not the last. He had his way with a few women in the past... Made love to them. Even though there was no love to it. Not from him. He had done it for pleasure, which was rather short lived, and only left him wanting more. He had used them, and then thrown them away, like they were nothing.

What he had done was truly disgraceful. He hated himself for it.

Now that Angelica was on his mind, he couldn't help but wonder what had happened to her. Her father probably married her off to some old, rich man.

He found himself asking 'what if'. What if he had pushed away his feelings of doubt about Angelica? What if he had continued to see her, allowing their relationship to blossom? What if he had proposed to her on the same bridge they kissed on?

They could have been married by now, with a baby on the way. He may not have been happy, but... At least he would have been human.

Instead he was this monstrous beast. The possibility of becoming human again seemed unreal, he would never be able to woe a woman. There was no way for him to earn her affection. Without his looks and royal status, he wouldn't get far. Angelica, or anyone else for that matter, would never have fallen for him if he looked like this.

He wasn't even sure if he was capable of feeling love. Ever since his mother died, he had felt... Empty, like he had no love left to give. After so many failed attempts at finding the right woman for him, he doubted that he would be able to fall in love with whatever girl came along, if one ever were to show up at his castle.

Nothing could change his fate. There was no hope for him now.

But at least Angelica, and all the other women he had broken the hearts of were free of him. They were better off without him.


	11. Chapter 10 - Lost Companions

**Chapter 10 - Lost Companions**

Beast's mind tends to wander nowadays. His thoughts were all over the place, he could barely focus on anything.

Everything, no matter how insignificant, seemed to remind him of something from his past. It didn't matter how unrelated it was, his mind always found a way to link those two completely unrelated things together, sometimes following a long thought process to reach that conclusion.

Thinking was all he really could do. He had done it plenty of times, over the past few years of enduring this curse. It had just progressed to the point where his thoughts just spiralled out of control, and he became lost in his own mind, unaware of what was going on around him, or how much time had passed while he had been stuck in a trance like state.

Earlier that day, Froufrou, Madame Garderobe and Maestro Cadenza's pampered pooch, that had been turned into a footstool, had come running into the dining room while he was eating. It then started barking, for no discernible reason, other than it probably just wanted attention.

He could relate. He had been quite an attention seeker in the past. But he wouldn't go bounding up to people and start shouting at them, or in the dog's case, bounding up to him in particular and barking loudly.

Froufrou, which he thought was a stupid name, had done it several times before. The dog's high pitched barking, or yapping technically, was rather grating, especially to Beast's ears as he had such a strong sense of hearing.

When the yapping footstool wouldn't leave him alone, he growled at him and bared his teeth, sending the dog packing with his tail between his legs. Or his tassel to be accurate, which was a substitute for a tail, as footstools don't usually have them.

It was clear that the dog had never been properly trained, as all it did was run around and bark, getting on his nerves. No one could control him, he wasn't obedient or loyal in the slightest. Madame Garderobe must have spoilt him since he was a pup.

He didn't seem to be very bright either, judging by the fact that he hadn't learnt anything from the last couple of times he had come and jumped up at Beast's chair.

It wasn't even a proper dog, it was just there for show. It couldn't guard anything, or protect you from harm, as it was so small. All it could really do was either sit or lie down and look cute.

Nothing about that dog was appealing, and he had no idea why Madame Garderobe loved it so much. She most likely had a huge soft spot for her sweet, innocent Froufrou, who could do nothing wrong, and that she could dress up in tiny outfits and wouldn't have to deal with any protesting.

At least, that's what she used to do, but now that Froufrou was a footstool she couldn't dress him up. He didn't even recall the last time he saw Madame Garderobe, as she dwelled in one of the castle bedrooms and spent the majority of the time sleeping. He wondered if that was part of the curse, as the servants would be sleeping eternally, in a sense, once the last petal fell. Or the other possibility was that, as a diva, she needed her 'beauty rest'.

If he had to take a guess, he'd say it was probably both. It was bound to be related. The curse was changing them all every passing day, making their situation so much worse.

He did feel sorry for Froufrou though. Out of everyone, he had to be the most clueless. As a dog, he didn't understand what was going on; why he barely saw his two owners anymore, why their familiar sounding voices came out of the mouths of a bunch of objects, why there was such a huge, ferocious beast in the castle.

It was doubtful that the dog ever asked itself those kind of questions, in fact, there was probably nothing going on inside its head, but it must have been, and still is, frustrated and agitated. He probably just wanted to play, or go outside for a long walk, but nobody would take him.

It was a shame, really. If Froufrou wasn't so loud and annoying, he would have liked the dog to keep him company, as he didn't seem that bothered by his appearance, except when he snarled it him. Beast only did that to put him in his place.

He wouldn't mind it if Froufrou came and quietly sat on his lap. It would make him feel a little less lonely.

His warping and changing thoughts shifted off of Froufrou and onto another dog that had been apart of his life. And that dog had been Wilfred.

They used to have quite a few dogs in the castle. His mother had two King Charles Spaniels, which he didn't recall the names of. He had liked his mother's dogs a great deal, but Wilfred had always been his dearest and most loyal companion, who had been by his side ever since he was a baby.

Wilfred was an Irish Wolfhound. He was a dark grey, with shaggy fur, floppy ears and chocolatey brown eyes. He always had his mouth open, with his tongue lolled out to the side, and his teeth showing, almost like he was smiling.

He was a proper dog, strong, reliable, protective, not like Froufrou, who could do nothing against an attacker except maybe bite their ankles.

There were two sides to Wilfred. Around the young prince, he was a gentle giant. He never lashed out or bit him when his younger self had tugged at his ears, or pulled on his tail. Wilfred even gave him rides on his back. And in the winter months, they would curl up together by the fire.

Beast didn't remember any of this taking place, but he did remember his mother telling him how good Wilfred had been with him when he was a toddler. He did recall chasing him though.

The other side to Wilfred seemed like a completely different dog. When his father took him out hunting with him, Wilfred became a fierce, killing machine, being able to hunt down rabbits and foxes, which he killed himself or retrieved for his master after he had shot them.

Wilfred had always belonged to his father, but it was clear that he had always been deeply affectionate towards the young prince, as he followed him everywhere. Unfortunately, Wilfred had been getting on quite a bit when Beast was born, around eight or nine years old. By the time Beast was seven, Wilfred was fifteen and a shadow of his former self. He had slowly been withering away, hardly any food passed his lips, and he was losing so much weight. He had lost all his teeth, and his grey fur was faded, matted and a complete mess. He could barely walk, he always struggled to get up, as his legs always betrayed him, as the arthritis was taking hold, stiffening all of his joints.

He had been suffering. It was only fair to put him out of his misery.

His father ordered one of the servants to take Wilfred outside, and shoot him.

Beast's younger self had been distraught about the idea of losing Wilfred. He had clung to Wilfred for dear life as the poor dog lie on the ground, panting, every intake of breath an ordeal. He had been crying into Wilfred's fur, begging his father not to take him away.

It was quite selfish of him, to want to keep Wilfred alive, when existence was clearly painful. Most children can't deal with the thought of loss, and that was the first time he had ever lost someone he cared for.

He had been selfish for quite some time after that point. His mother had to pry him off Wilfred, so that one of the servants could carry him away. She told him that it was the right thing to do, as he was slowly dying anyway. They were doing it to save him, make it quicker and painless.

The servant probably shot him at the back of the head, so that he wouldn't feel anything.

He remembered hearing the gunshot ring out from the woods, as his mother cradled him in her arms, doing all she could to comfort him.

'We can get you another dog' he remembered his father had told him reassuringly.

But he didn't want another dog. He wanted Wilfred. No one could replace him.

They never did end up getting another dog. Probably because he protested so much.

Wilfred had been his best friend.

He wondered if their friendship would have lasted, if he was here now. Would Wilfred be able to recognise him? His scent was different, so was his voice, and most obviously his appearance.

That dog wouldn't have known it was him. He probably would have turned on him, tried to attack him. He wouldn't blame him for it. Beast didn't even recognise himself.

Well, that wasn't strictly true. He had become unwillingly accustomed to how he looked now. As so much time had passed, when he thought of himself, he didn't think of the handsome young prince he had once been, but rather the hideous beast, the form that he was trapped in.

At least now he understood how Wilfred had felt in his final days. Beast may not be dying, nor was he old or sickly. But every passing day was painful. Sometimes he didn't think he could go on.

Sometimes, the thought of being put down didn't seem so bad.

He decided to stop himself there.

Although, the memory of Wilfred, and all of those times his father took his dog hunting got him thinking about his own hunting days. Long after Wilfred had passed, as well as his mother, his father started taking him hunting with him, when he was a teenager, around fifteen years old, and continued to do so for years.

They didn't take any hunting dogs with them, just the guns slung on their backs and the horses they rode on.

It took a while, to learn how to shoot a gun. But he took to horse riding like a duck to water.

He had always loved horses. They used to have quite a few horses in the stables, although most of them had belonged to the royal guard.

Through sheer impulse alone, Beast left the confines of the castle and walked down to the stables. He was sure it wouldn't do any harm, as no one would see him in the garden. And he could do with some fresh air, as the last time he got any was... When he went to see his mother's grave. It felt so recent, and yet, it was so long ago. He wanted to visit her again.

It was no surprise to him when he found the stables completely empty. The only thing there was some fresh hay and water in one stable. He then wondered why one of the servants would restock it, when there was no point. Force of habit? Sense of normality?

It didn't matter. He would probably forget to ask about it later anyway.

His mother and father both had their own horses.

When he was younger, his mother allowed him to stroke her horse, a pure white mare, named Candide. She hardly rode her horse, but she had allowed him to sit on its back on many occasions. She loved Candide, slipped her carrots, combed her mane and tail, braided them, scratched her behind the ear. And he loved his mother's horse too. The Queen promised him that when he was older, she would let him ride Candide. But he never got the chance.

After she died, his father took Candide away. He said that he was sending her off to live on a nice farm, where she could spend the rest of her days pasturing on lush green fields. He believed him then, but not now. His father lied. He always lied.

In actuality, he sold Candide, to the first person that would take her. He didn't do it for the money, he did it to get rid of another lasting reminder of his mother. Just another one of his methods to erase her from existence.

His father's horse had been a black stallion, named Brunelle. He didn't like Brunelle as much as Candide, in his younger years anyway. When he was older, his father helped him warm up to him.

While Candide had been gentle, calm and playful, Brunelle was stoic, loyal, and obedient. That was mostly down to the constant lashings his father had given Brunelle, to ensure that he kept in line.

When the King was teaching him how to hunt, his father bought him his own horse. He allowed him to name him and care for him, when the stable hands weren't dealing with it themselves.

Beast named him Jean. His coat was a chestnut brown, with dark chocolate mane and tail. He had white stockings on three of his four legs and a white stripe running down his face.

Jean was a fine horse, a thorough bred, it was clear his father wanted him to have the very best.

Sadly, his father encouraged the Prince to use his own methods of discipline on Jean, to hit him with a whip, to make sure that he was completely and utterly devoted to him.

And so, the Prince had adopted that technique. But the whippings that he gave Jean lacked any sort of meaning behind them, he just did it because his father did it. He liked to think that he was in charge of Jean, when deep down he knew he wasn't, he wasn't powerful or strong, nor did he think what he was doing was right. And Jean could sense that. He was a smart horse.

After years of beating him with a whip, Jean finally snapped. Beast remembered that day well, and found himself reliving that moment as he stared at Jean's empty, forgotten stable, his name engraved in the wooden door.

* * *

It was early morning in autumn, and the sun was rising in the distance, giving the sky an orange hue. The green leaves on the trees were turning brown, and yellow, and orange, and falling off of the branches. It was quite muddy, as it had been raining heavily for the past few days, and it was still rather damp, with water droplets dripping off of almost anything surrounding them.

The Prince, at the age of eighteen, was sitting in his saddle on Jean's back, with his father standing beside him, saddled up on Brunelle.

They both had rifles strapped to their backs, and his father was scouring the trees with his telescope.

"The servants tell me there is a wild boar somewhere in these woods. Quite a large one, too." His father told him. "They say it's located around this area."

"Do you think we'd be able to catch it and have it for dinner?" The Prince asked.

"Perhaps. Or maybe we could have its head mounted on a wall." The King replied, lowering his telescope. "What do you say we have a bit of a friendly competition, my dear boy?"

"What kind of competition?" He asked curiously.

"First person to track down and kill that boar gets all the glory. And gets to decide what we do with it." His father replied.

The Prince nodded eagerly "I'm up for it."

"Well then it's settled. I'll see you back here with that prized boar!" His father shouted, kicking Brunelle, who immediately reared into action and went charging towards the trees, kicking up dirt and pieces of grass as he went.

The Prince gritted his teeth and kicked Jean, sending him on his way. Jean snorted and glared back at him "Come on, Jean, I have a competition to win!" He shouted, kicking him again, jamming his stirrups into his side and whipping his neck. Jean's nostrils flared and he begrudgingly set off, running towards the woods.

They broke through the trees, and his hooves thundered against the forest floor, as he clumsily jumped over fallen trees and unearthed roots. The orange light from the sun flickered through the branches of the trees and the remaining leaves, providing the depths of the dark forest with natural light.

He heard a squeal, and yanked on the reins, grinding them to a halt. Jean wasn't pleased about being stopped so abruptly, after they had only just started moving, but the Prince didn't care, as he was too busy focused on the large brown blur that was running to the right. It had probably been spooked by his father, as it was coming from the direction he had gone in.

He quickly unholstered his gun, snapped off the safety, aimed, and fired at the boar. It let out a pained cry, but remained upright, and continued to run away. It was resilient.

"After it!" He shouted. The Prince kicked Jean again, much harder this time, and the horse set off once more, pursuing the boar.

The boar managed to move surprisingly fast, despite the fact that it had a bullet lodged in its leg. It was also leaving behind quite a trail of blood on the forest floor.

Once the wounded beast was in sight, he took his hands off the rein just for a second, and fired at it again, but the bullet missed and zipped passed a tree, chipping off pieces of bark.

"Steady, boy. I can't aim when you're throwing your head around." He said gruffly to Jean, blaming him for throwing him off balance and missing the boar. There was nothing Jean could do about his head movement. Besides, the Prince was a bad shot when it came to aiming whilst moving.

He took hold of the reins, to avoid them both crashing into a tree, and continued their pursuit.

They trampled over some white snowdrop flowers as they galloped, dodging trees and ducking under low hanging branches that could easily snag one of them and slow them down.

They began to approach a fairly large ditch, which the boar jumped down into, and then scrambled up to the other side, dragging its limp, injured leg.

It was easier to go over it than around it.

"We can easily make that jump." The Prince stated confidently, kicking Jean on more, and causing his speed to increase.

Unfortunately, Jean had never been a very good jumper. As soon as he caught sight of the large gap he had to jump across, he panicked, and screeched to halt, which sent the Prince flying off his back to the other side of the ditch, where he landed face down in a pool of mud.

At least it was a soft landing.

"Urrrrrgh!" The Prince cried in disgust, sitting up and wiping the mud off his face, so that he'd be able to see. He managed to catch a glimpse of the boar as it disappeared from view.

So close. So close to beating his father, and taking home that prize boar. They would have had a massive feast, to celebrate his successful hunt.

He slammed his fist against the ground in frustration, causing mud to splatter everywhere, making himself even more dirty than he already was, which was quite an achievement.

He glanced back at Jean, who was standing on the other side of the ditch, unmoving, and just watching him. He didn't even bother to come and check on him, make sure he wasn't hurt. What an inconsiderate horse.

The Prince stood up, covered in a thick layer of mud from head to toe, and hurried round the ditch, storming towards Jean in a fit of rage.

Jean backed away, but the Prince grabbed hold of the reins and yanked on them hard, pulling Jean's head towards him and nearly ripping his teeth out. "You just cost me that boar!" He screamed angrily "All because you couldn't do a simple jump! You're worthless! You stupid horse!"

He lifted his whipped and smacked Jean on the neck. And then he smacked him again, even harder, and again. Jean retreated backwards, shaking his head so that the Prince would lose grip of the reins, but he continued to clench them firmly.

Jean's eyes seemed to darken, and he let out a cry as he grabbed hold of the Prince's whip with his teeth, pulled it out of his hands and tossed it to one side.

Jean then reared up, startling the Prince and causing him to fall over, and land in another mud puddle. Jean was about to stamp on him with his hooves, so he quickly rolled out of the way, just as Jean brought them down on the spot where he had once been. He would have broken his ribs if he succeeded.

Jean reared up again, and charged passed him, running through the trees and as far away from him as possible.

"Fine, run off, see if I care!" The Prince shouted after him as his horse disappeared from view.

It looked like he'd have to walk back to the castle on foot. He climbed to his feet once again, his front and back now completely caked in mud. He was just about to set off, when his father, riding Brunelle, came galloping towards him. He had probably come to see what all the commotion was about.

"What on earth happened to you?!" He exclaimed as he brought Brunelle to a stand still in front of the Prince. "You're filthy!"

"Jean threw me off, and cost me that boar. I almost had it, but he couldn't even jump over a ditch!" The Prince cried, throwing his arms up in the air in an act of frustration.

"Where's Jean now?" His father asked, glancing around at the complete lack of his son's horse.

"He ran off in that direction after I started telling him off and hitting him." He replied, turning and pointing in the direction Jean had fled. "He completely lost it, father. He snatched my whip from me and then tried to kill me!"

"Kill you? Well that won't do at all. I can't have my son riding such an unruly horse." His father responded.

He was quiet for a moment, and patted Brunelle on the neck before he climbed down. His father stood beside Brunelle, holding onto the reins as he smoothed out his wild, messy mane. "Why don't you take Brunelle?" His father suggested.

"Take him? You mean... You want me to have Brunelle?" The Prince asked.

"Yes." His father nodded "I want my son to have the best horse there is, and there's no horse more fitting for you than my own." He said, handing the reins to the Prince "Consider him yours from now on."

The Prince accepted the reins and hurried over to Brunelle, stroking his neck. "Thank you so much, father!" He said gratefully.

"You're welcome, Adam." The King replied.

"Wait, what about Jean? Shouldn't we send someone to go retrieve him?" The Prince asked, whilst he continued to stroke Brunelle's fur.

"It doesn't matter. Forget about him. Whatever peasant comes across him is welcome to have him. They can put him to work on the fields, or get him pulling carriages. Or just eat him if they're that desperate for food. It's about all he's good for. He's certainly not worthy enough to be your horse."

"I guess so." He murmured, looking passed his father, who was obstructing his view, and stared at the area where Jean disappeared "But what if he gets lost, he could die." He said worryingly.

"He's none of your concern anymore. He's an untameable horse, there's nothing you can do about him now. Besides, you have Brunelle now, you don't even have to think about Jean. He's not worth your time or energy."

The Prince lingered for a moment, his eyes fixated on the line of trees, where Jean had gone. "Yeah, you're right. I don't need him, anyway. I have Brunelle now." He declared, patting the black stallion on the neck.

"Come on, let's go back to the castle and get you all cleaned up." His father suggested, climbing back into the saddle, rather slow and sluggishly, heaving and huffing as he struggled to get back on.

The Prince climbed on behind him with ease, but tried not to brush up against his father, so that he wouldn't get him dirty too. "What about the boar?" He asked.

"We'll get him next time."

* * *

Beast never did see that boar again. It probably died of blood loss and ended up being eaten by predators. What a waste.

He didn't see Jean ever again either. He wondered what became of him. Wherever he ended up, he hoped it was with someone that treated him with care and love. Someone that would give him what he didn't.

It was nice of his father, to give him Brunelle on a whim. He wondered if he did it out of the kindness of his heart, or just to make himself look good in his son's eyes.

He didn't have any problems with Brunelle. He was already well trained, and never did anything to harm him, like Jean almost had. He just never formed a very strong bond with Brunelle like he did with Candide or Jean, back when he was kind to his own horse.

He thought that his father would get himself a new horse, but he never did. He went hunting less and less too, and eventually the Prince ended up going alone.

'I'm not as young as I used to be' his father would say. An old injury he had sustained in his leg had started to catch up with him, so he couldn't do as many physical activities.

It occurred to him that most of his animal companions had left him. Perhaps he had never been good with animals, which was ironic, since he was an amalgamation of several animals. He'd laugh, if he actually found it funny. But that wasn't true. Wilfred liked him, and Jean had for a while, until he started treating him so badly. How did the old saying go? 'Treat those how you wish to be treated'? Perhaps he should have listened to that, rather than his father, and his treatment of animals.

In fact, it would seem that everyone he cared about had left him at some point in his life. Maybe he had always been cursed to live alone and miserable.

It also occurred to him that some of his recent thoughts and memories had been following a similar pattern. And that pattern was that quite a few of them heavily centred around his father. Was there something he was trying to recall on that he wasn't aware of?

Truth be told, he knew exactly what it was his brain was trying to lead him and his thought process towards. It was a troubling experience, something he'd much rather not dwell on but... He had to address it at some point, to come to terms with it and deal with it. Whether he wanted to do so or not.

But that was a story for another day.

* * *

 **A/N - To answer Guest52's question, I've stated before that the movie plot starts at chapter 15. Technically chapter 16, due to this websites format. In hindsight, I probably should have called chapter 1 the prologue and went from there, but ah well. I'm currently writing the movie plot, I'm currently 3 chapters in. We're almost there now!**

 **To answer Guest749's question, or questions, I'm afraid you'll have to wait and see.**

 **I hope you liked Angelica in the last chapter. I wanted to introduce a character to show that the Prince had talked to women before, he just never managed to find love.**

 **I realise that the Prince and his father having guns might not be completely historically accurate, but I'm not trying to be. Well, I am, as best I can, but I am taking a few liberties. It is a fairy tale after all, and I don't think a Prince turning into a beast is very historically accurate either. I know it takes place in the 1700-1800, and I'm also assuming in this fantasy setting, the French Revolution never happened... Because that would be bad. Plus, Gaston had a gun in the movie, a musket and pistol, and a rifle in a deleted scene.**

 **If there are any Attack on Titan fans reading, then the Prince calling his horse Jean is a reference to that. Jean is one of my favourite characters, and everyone calls him horseface, and I was struggling for a name for the Prince's horse, so I just thought 'why not?'. There are some hidden meanings behind the names of his mother and father's horses ;). The last few chapters of Beast recalling on his memories of his mother and father are building up to something, which is being explored in the next chapter. Stay tuned my friends, the next chapter is a long one. I hope you enjoyed, whether it be this chapter or any of the previous others. Let me know in a review, I love reading them as much as I love writing for you all.**


	12. Chapter 11 - Kings and Queens

**Chapter 11 - Kings and Queens**

It was a dark, starless night, with clouds that released an endless amount of snowflakes, which swirled and danced in the cold, winter wind.

Beast had taken to sitting outside on the castle walkways, where he could take in the fresh air. It was good, to be outside, while still having a sense of security, as he didn't have to stray far from his prison. He meant home, but calling it his prison seemed to suit it much better.

Out in the open, everything was calm and quiet. No servants to bother him, no rose to watch over, just him and the elements. The cold didn't bother him, as he had a thick layer of fur to keep him warm. At least that was one positive he could find about his current situation in a sea of negatives. It almost made him thankful that it was always winter, as he couldn't imagine what it would be like to have to endure the heat of summer under such a mass of fur.

He also had the gargoyles to keep him company, so he wasn't truly alone. The statues used to look like angles, but now they shared a striking resemblance to him. It was uncanny in fact. The Enchantress truly had a twisted sense of humour.

After looking at one of the gargoyles for a while, he had come to realise that his horns looked more like a ram's than that of a goat's or antelope's that he had previously thought. After so many years, his body was still a mystery to him. He'd probably never fully understand it.

He had been on the castle rooftops quite a few times, and had discovered from trail and error that he could jump a fairly long distance. He hadn't tested the boundaries of his jumping ability, as he was worried he might miss a jump and end up seriously hurting himself, but he had gotten the hang of it, and it was something to keep in mind for future use. Not that he saw himself needing it, but you never know.

He wasn't too interested in testing the capabilities of his body, nor did he want to push himself too hard. He was content with sitting with the gargoyles and taking in the night air.

On nights like this, it became apparent to him just how isolated he had become. Not only had he isolated himself from the world, but he was isolating himself from the servants too. At least one of them was by choice.

He was being forced to remain here, as going beyond the safety of the castle was a death sentence. He could choose to leave if he wanted to test his luck, but he wouldn't want to try to live out there. But he didn't have to push the servants away, not when they were trying so hard to keep everyone together.

He just needed space. He always told himself that.

Besides, he wasn't the life of the party, or a joy to be around. It was better if he stayed away and kept to himself.

He had been isolated before, so the feeling wasn't exactly new to him. However, back then, he had no choice.

He was starting to think about his father again. He was also starting to get sick of this. What could he possibly hope to gain from it?

Thinking about his mother had helped somewhat, kept him sane, but thinking about his father made him feel worse. Not to mention the awful experience that made being in isolation feel so normal was all down to him.

But it was time for him to think about it, so that he could finally move on. At least, that's what he hoped he could do. He wanted to contain these painful memories in a little box and put them to one side, so that he wouldn't have to think about then again. That was the end game.

There were several points in his life when he saw his father for who he truly was. The first time was when everything he had ever known was starting to become unraveled.

That was when his mother died, and his whole world came crumbling down around him.

* * *

His mother lay in the sickbed, her skin ghostly white, and her blonde hair messy and unkept, clinging to her sweat covered face. Her chest rose and fell, and every intake of breath caused her to shake, and something within her to rattle.

The young prince, only ten years of age, sat beside her in a chair he had pulled over. He had a book in his hands and was currently reading it to her. Her eyes were closed, but he could tell she was listening.

"They had a year of joy, twelve months of the strange heaven which the salmon know on beds of river shingle, under the gin-clear water. For twenty-four years they were guilty, but this first year was the only one which seemed like happiness. Looking back on it, when they were old, they did not remember that in this year it had ever rained or frozen. The four seasons were coloured like the edge of a rose petal for them." He read aloud the passage about Guinevere and Lancelot. He saw traces of a smile on her face.

The door creaked open and his father poked his head in "Adam, can I borrow you for a second?" He asked.

"But I'm reading to mother." He protested.

"I have something I need to discuss with you. It won't take long." The King told him.

The Prince glanced at his mother, and then back at his father. "Alright, I'm coming." He sighed, standing up and placing the book on the chair. "I'll be back in a bit, mother." He addressed her, patting her hand gently. He then turned and followed his father out of the room, giving her another glance before the door was shut behind him.

"You shouldn't touch her, you know," His father warned "She might be infectious."

"Sorry, father. I can't help it. It feels wrong not to touch her."

"Well, I don't want to see you doing it again. I don't want you to catch whatever she has."

"The doctors still haven't figured it out?" The Prince asked.

"I'm afraid not. But I've been meaning to talk to you about a similar subject."

"What is it?" He questioned.

"How would you like to go away for a few days to my hunting lodge?" His father asked him, placing his hands on both of the young Prince's shoulders.

"Hunting lodge?" The Prince repeated, unsure of what his father was talking about.

"It's a huge estate I had built on the outskirts of Paris. I go hunting there occasionally." He told him.

"But what about mother?" He asked concernedly.

"The doctors need some space to work on her treatment, so it would be best if you and I were out of the way while she recovers. And you deserve a break away from here after being by her bedside ever since she got sick. You've had a lot of sleepless nights, you need some time to yourself."

"I'd rather stay here and make sure she gets better." The young Prince protested.

"That might harm her recovery, the doctors won't be able to work properly if you're hovering over her." His father responded.

"I won't hover over her. I'll keep out of their way, I promise." He replied "I just want to stay here."

His father gripped his shoulders tightly, the tips of his fingers digging into his flesh. It hurt. "I wasn't giving you a choice. We're going, and that's final."

"You're hurting me." The Prince whimpered.

His father released him and the Prince began rubbing one of his shoulders, nursing it.

"I'll tell one of the servants to pack your trunk. We leave in the morning." His father stated.

"The morning?!" The Prince cried in alarm.

"The sooner we leave, the sooner your mother can recover." His father responded "Don't you want her to get better?" He questioned, tilting his head slightly.

"Of course I do!"

"Well, then give your mother the space she needs and focus on enjoying yourself for a change."

The young Prince lowered his head "Yes, father." He murmured quietly in defeat.

"Good boy." He said, patting him on the shoulder, the one that he hadn't been nursing "Your mother will be fine. After all, whenever she sung you that lullaby, she promised that she would never leave you. I'm sure she'll keep to her word."

His father turned and walked away, leaving his son alone in the corridor, unsure of what to do with himself.

The young Prince woke up early the next day to say goodbye to his mother before he left with his father.

She was still lying in the sickbed, unmoving, just breathing in and out. "Hello, mother." He greeted.

She was silent.

"Father and I are going to stay at the hunting lodge for a few days while the doctors help you get better." He told her "But don't worry, we won't be gone very long. You won't even notice I'm away!"

Her eyelids twitched slightly.

"Well, I better get ready to go. I'll see you soon, mother."

He turned to leave, but she suddenly reached up and grabbed his hand, startling him a little. "Mother, you're awake!" He exclaimed happily.

"Don't... Go..." She said, her voice hushed and strained.

"I can't stay, father won't let me." He replied. "But I'll be back soon, you'll see." He reassured her. "After all, you promised to be here with me, and I'm going to be here with you."

"Then... sing for me... won't you?"

She requested.

"What do you want me to sing?" He asked.

"Our song... please... I want to hear you sing it..."

The Prince stared at her pleading eyes and took hold of her hand, and squeezed it gently. He then began to sing "Days in the sun, where my life has barely begun..."

His mother rolled her head back and closed her eyes, allowing his soft, sweet voice to carry her away into slumber. "Not until my whole life is done, will I ever leave you..."

The door opened and his father entered. "Come on, Adam, we're going."

The young Prince didn't move, instead he continued to clutch his mother's hand. "Come on, Adam." His father insisted, placing his hands on his shoulders and pulling him away from her. Her hand slipped from his grasp, but he continued to watch her, she never left his sight until he was ushered out of the door.

* * *

Beast got to his feet. He decided to have a walk around, to stray away from the balcony for a bit. He needed to pace.

Out of everything he had remembered during the time he had spent as a beast, it hurt to think about his mother and her death the most.

That was the last time he ever saw her. And worst of all, he had been none the wiser.

If only he had known. If he had, he would have kicked up more of a fuss, fought, screamed, cried, done whatever it took to make his father stay, so that he could spend those final moments of his mother's life with her.

He thought that by the time he came back from the hunting lodge, she would be better, that everything would return to how it was. He was certainly a naive child.

And that's what made it more heart breaking, the fact that he thought he would see her again but never did.

Sometimes he wondered if his father knew that her time was almost up, and he wanted to take his younger self away, so that he wouldn't have to suffer through seeing his mother slowly dying. Sometimes he wondered if there was any treatment that was going to happen, or if that was just lies too.

Maybe he had been trying to protect him, he would never know for certain. He would have rather been there for her, in the time she needed him most.

But that wasn't the end of it. It was only the start of what had to be the worst experience he had ever gone through.

Being trapped as a beast came close, but he still thought that everything afterwards, including what he was going through now, was just a repercussion of her death. Even now, he was still feeling the effects. It was likely to stick with him forever.

* * *

A few days, his father said. It had been a week, and they were still staying at the hunting lodge.

The young Prince was starting to become very restless. He wanted more than anything to go home, to see his mother again.

He had thought about asking his father if they could go back to the castle on several occasions, but was afraid he might shut him down. But after staying longer than they had originally agreed, he had plucked up enough courage to ask.

His father was in the main living area, leaning against the empty fireplace, a piece of paper in hand and a glass of alcohol in the other. The young Prince didn't know what type it was as he didn't actually know it was alcohol at the time.

His father didn't notice his son standing in the doorway at first, he was staring at the far edge of the room, most likely looking out of the window, and the acres of forest that stretched out as far as the eye could see.

He finished off his drink and placed the glass on the mantelpiece, and then glanced down at the piece of paper he hand clenched in his hand and sighed deeply.

The young Prince stepped into the room and cleared his throat, alerting his father of his presence.

"Oh, hello Adam." His father greeted, folding the piece of paper and tucking it into his pocket. "It's a lovely sunny day outside, wouldn't you say?" He asked, walking over to the window.

The young Prince watched him silently as he continued "I was thinking that you and I could take a trip to Paris. Just for the day. I could take you to see Norte Dame and a few other landmarks. You've wanted to go and see them for a while now, haven't you?"

"Yes, but-" the young Prince began.

"Well, it would be a shame to waste such an opportunity when we're so close to Paris." His father interrupted.

"But I wanted to go with mother too." The young Prince piped up.

His father turned his back to him and continued to stare out the window, his hands behind his back "Well, your mother is not here right now, so I'm afraid it will just have to be you and me." He responded "We can go with her next time."

"But-" the Prince tried to object once more.

"Why don't you go and put on your best outfit, and I'll tell the coach driver to get ready?" His father suggested, interrupting him again.

"I don't want to go to Paris!" The young Prince blurted out. "I want to go home!"

His father turned his head slightly, to look at him over his shoulder. He could just barely see one side of his face, as the room was dimly lit. He didn't understand why he didn't turn around. Was he trying to hide something? "You can't." He replied simply.

"Why not?!" The young Prince questioned.

"Because I say so." His father replied. Another simple answer. What was he trying to avoid?

"I want to go home! You can't keep me here forever!" He shouted in frustration.

His father was silent, and turned away once more, his back facing him.

"Please... I just want to go home... I just want to see mother..." He pleaded. He was on the brink of tears. He was frustrated, angry, and confused. He didn't know why his father was keeping him here, and feared that he might be keeping him from him. He didn't understand any of it! The only thing he knew was how much he wanted to leave this place!

His father suddenly spun around, startling the young boy. "Your mother isn't here anymore! She's dead!" He shouted. His chest was heaving, it was clear that he had been holding back for some time. "She died..." He whispered, taking on a softer tone after his out burst.

He lowered his head, a look of possible regret written on his face.

The young Prince stared at him in disbelief "No, that's not true. Tell me that's not true!" He cried, stuck in a state of denial.

His father was quiet, unable to look at him. Was he even listening?

"Father! Tell me it's not true!"

And then, his father looked him dead in the eye. The young Prince saw every single movement of his mouth as he breathed the words "It's true."

Tears started to well up in the young Prince's eyes "No... You- you said she'd get better!" He cried. "You lied to me!"

"I thought she'd be able to recover, after all those promises she made to you, I thought she'd be able to stay strong and get through it for your sake!" His father snapped, his temper running high "If anything, she's the one who lied!"

"She wouldn't do that!"

"But she did! She said she'd never leave you, but she has! She left us both!" He retorted.

"We left her too!" The young prince exclaimed.

"We didn't know she was going to die! I just wanted to give you a few days away from all the madness back home!"

Home. Home was where his mother was. Her dead, lifeless body. He couldn't bear to picture.

"I want to go home, I need to see her!"

"No, Adam. I can't let you see her like that. I won't." His father refused.

"Please, you have to let me see her!" The young prince begged.

"No. We will remain here, until the body is... Taken care of." His father told him.

The young prince lowered his head as he choked up a sob. He gritted his teeth as tears threatened to fall. "How long have you known?" He asked, although he was barely able to speak.

His father didn't answer.

Could it be the piece of paper he had been holding earlier was a message about his mother's death? At the time, the young prince couldn't have known when exactly his mother died. She could have died seconds after he left the room, or she could have died a mere day ago.

How long had his father been holding back on telling him?

"I'm sorry, Adam." His father apologised weakly.

The young prince put his hands to his mouth as he began to sob loudly. Tears streamed down his face as he cried. He slowly approached his father, shaking and weeping, before he made contact with him, and pressed his face into his chest.

His father was stiff, stoic and unmoving. After a few seconds, the young Prince felt his father wrap his arms around him, embracing his distraught son in a hug.

* * *

A trip that was only supposed to last for a few days turned into a trip that lasted for six months.

The hunting lodge was more of a large estate. It wasn't as nearly as big as the castle, nor did it ever feel like home. The young Prince felt trapped there, alone and unloved.

The hunting lodge didn't need as many staff as the castle did. They had a cook, and a dozen or so cleaners and regular servants. But he didn't know any of them, not as well as the ones back home. He wanted more than anything to be able to talk to Mrs Potts, Luimere, Cogsworth and so many others. They were like family, and he needed them, after the death of his mother, and the fact that he was still recovering from the lost.

The young Prince hadn't fully accepted it, that she was gone. It was just so hard to believe, that he would never see her again. Some days it was hard to stop himself from crying.

The only person he could really talk to was his father, but he didn't like to talk about his mother. He said it was best for both of them if they didn't bring it up, since the subject was so traumatic. But avoiding it just made him feel worse.

Sometimes his father would get angry, when he did try to mention her. He would shout, yell, even scream in the young boy's face. The King would ask him if he hated him, for bringing him to the hunting lodge, when he had been trying to do him a favour. And then he would pass the blame onto his mother, said that she had being lying to him all his life, that she left him, that she shouldn't have been filling his head with promises that she couldn't keep. He believed that it wasn't his fault, that all of these problems were to be solely blamed on his mother.

She couldn't help getting sick, she couldn't stop herself from dying if her time in this world had come to an end. But his father didn't want him to think like that.

Other times his father would just shut him down if the young prince dared to try to speak of her, or going home, or anything along those lines.

Eventually, they did end up going home. But on the carriage ride back to the castle, his father had a few rules in place for him.

"Now, Adam..." He began. "When we get there, I don't want you talking to any of the servants about your mother. Or anything for that matter, beside trivial things. They are beneath you, I don't want you indulging them in any of their mindless drabble."

"Yes, father." The young Prince replied submissively.

"I've also arranged a couple of new tutors for you." He stated.

His mother had been teaching him almost everything he needed to know.

"You'll have a separate tutor for each subject, they'll be teaching you English, mathematics, science and so much more. And of course, as a prince, you deserve the best of the best, and these teachers are probably the best in their field of work. They're also very expensive too, so I want you to treat them with the upmost respect. So pay attention, answer whatever questions they have for you, and I'm sure you'll do splendidly."

"Yes, father." The young prince repeated, staring blankly out of the carriage window.

"Meanwhile, I'll be teaching you about all of your royal duties. I don't trust anyone to teach you how to be a Prince, and one day a King, but me."

"I'm sure I'll learn all I need to from you, father." He responded, his voice dry and lacking any emotion.

"Indeed you will." His father agreed. "If you follow everything I teach you, then you'll be a great king someday."

When they returned to castle, the servants greeted him in a trivial manner, as they were expected to. They bowed and then went on to their business.

The young Prince immediately went to the sick room, where his mother had been, before his father could stop him. When he arrived, he found the bed empty, and the sheets and pillows neatly made up.

The book he had been reading to his mother was still on the chair, although the chair had been moved to the far end of the room. He has forgotten to take it with him, as everything had been so rushed when he left.

He picked up the book, and opened it, noticing that the page he had been on had the corner folded, so he wouldn't lose his place. He had been quite far into it, but there were so many pages left.

He hadn't been able to finish it for her.

A tear landed on the page, and he quickly shut the book and pulled it close to his chest. He then slumped down in the chair and stared solemnly at the empty bed. He finally and fully realised that she was gone. And she was never coming back.

* * *

Beast had walked up one of the stairways in one of the castle towers. He was currently sitting on one of the many stairs, staring out of the window, at the snow, that was now falling thick and fast. There were snowflakes caught in his fur, but he didn't mind all that much. They would melt eventually.

He rested his head against the cold, stone wall and sighed, his breath visible. He watched the tiny cloud of air rise before vanishing.

He had blamed himself for his mother's death for a very long time. He had thought that he had done something wrong, that he was being punished for something. He had believed that by not being there for her in her final days, she hadn't been able to hold on to life. She had just... Let go.

Maybe there was nothing he could have done to save her. What could he really have done, besides hold her hand and remain at her bedside? It was doubtful that would have magically cured her.

After a while, he stopped blaming himself and he had come to resent his mother, for leaving him. That was his father's doing, filling his head about how that lullaby she had sung to him every night was a lie, that she had given up on him, and let death take her away.

There was one point in his life where Beast had hated her.

What kind of person does that to a child, make them think of their dead mother in such a way?

His father, that's who.

He truly was a cruel, awful man.

But... there was one side of his father he had never seen before, and didn't ever see again.

* * *

The twenty two year old Prince was sitting in his father's study. Things like Angelica and his horse, Jean, were a distant memory, and at that very moment, he was very focused on winning a game of chess against his father.

The King was playing the black pieces, while the Prince was playing with the white pieces. He had claimed all of his father's pawns, as well as one of his knights and bishops. He was trying to back him into a corner using his own remaining pieces, as he father had managed to claim half of his pawns and one of his rooks. The old man kept moving his King, which made it rather frustrating.

His father was drunk at the time. He had downed four glasses of whiskey and was currently on his fifth. Surprisingly, he was still able to play chess really well, although some of his moves were questionable and a little bit idiotic.

The Prince moved his his knight to avoid it being claimed by his father's rook.

His father sat quietly and took a swig of whiskey before moving his King again.

The Prince began to wonder why he was even bothering to play defensive when his father clearly wasn't paying attention. So, he moved one of his pawns up the board.

His father glanced over at the portrait of himself hanging on the wall and then glanced back at the Prince. "You know, Adam, we should get someone to do a portrait of you. We could hang it up in your room." He suggested. He was slurring a little, and the Prince could practically taste the alcohol on his breath from the other side of the desk.

He looked over at his father's portrait. "I don't think a portrait of that sized would fit on my wall." He responded.

His father sat back in his chair and stretched out his arm to move his bishop and took one of the Prince's pawns. Perhaps he was paying attention after all.

"We could get the artist to just paint a picture of your face then. It's a work of art on it's own." He complimented him.

His son smiled "Thank you."

"Thanking me is exactly what you should be doing. You do have my face after all."

He was actually complimenting himself in a backwards sort of way.

"Most children do inherit something from their parents." The Prince agreed, moving one of his pawns again.

His father picked up his Queen. It was the first time he had touched her in this entire game. He paused for a moment, and stared at the chess piece and then at the Prince.

"You did always have your mother's hair... And her eyes." He murmured.

The Prince didn't know what to say. It was odd for his father to bring her up. They sometimes did it in passing, like at the garden party many moons ago, but they never talked about her like this... He almost sounded sentimental.

"When your hair is long, the resemblance is rather... Striking." His father continued. "Why did you cut it?" He asked.

The Prince lifted his hand and touched his blonde hair, that only reached down to his chin "You told me to." He responded.

"Oh, that's right... I did tell you to do that, didn't I?" He muttered.

He really was drunk.

He put the Queen back down on the chess board and moved her diagonally.

"You know, sometimes... I find it hard to look at you, your eyes they just... They remind me so much of her." He admitted, gulping some of the whiskey. "You're the one ever lasting reminder of her I couldn't get rid of."

The Prince still didn't know what to say. He was completely baffled that his father was actually sharing his feelings with him. He never opened up to anyone. Was he always like this when he was drunk?

He just moved his own Queen forward.

His father stared at the chess board for a moment "Do you miss her, Adam?" He asked, meeting his gaze.

Any other time, he would have said no, as his father would be displeased. But as he was drunk, and clearly had no idea what he was saying, he felt safe in admitting the truth. "Yes, I do." He replied honestly.

His father moved his King. "I do too." He admitted "I know you might find it hard to believe, but despite everything... I did love her."

"You had a funny way of showing it." The Prince retorted. He felt confident in what he was saying, but there was a small concern scratching at the back of his mind that his father could possibly turn violent in his drunken state. He'd have to tread carefully.

"What do you mean by that?" His father asked.

He was drunk and clueless?

The Prince moved his bishop and claimed his father's own bishop. "You hit her. I saw you." He responded.

"She pushed me. She was trying to turn you against me, I couldn't allow her to do that." His father argued.

He moved his Queen and claimed another of the Prince's pawns.

"She was trying to be a good mother." He argued back, taking his own Queen and claiming his father's last knight.

"She wasn't perfect, Adam. I know you may think she was, but she wasn't. She was unstable, after we got married. She found herself in a situation where there was so much pressure placed upon her and she just couldn't take it. She was a fragile soul, and it wasn't long before she had a breakdown. Now I could have given up on her, I could have sent her off to a mental asylum. But I didn't, I fought for her, I got her through it, and we came out stronger together." His father told him.

"She never seemed unstable." The Prince replied.

His father moved his rook closer to his own King. "She hid it well, especially in front of you. She wasn't as bad as she was after you were born." He explained. He then paused for a moment "We tried for so long for a baby, which didn't help her mental state very much. But she wanted one so badly, and so did I, so we kept pushing and pushing. We began to lose hope, there was just miscarriage after miscarriage... We began to think we'd never have a baby, but then... You came into our lives. You were the light of her life. You were her cure." He stated, and a smile appeared on his face. "I had never seen her so happy, when she held you in her arms."

The Prince moved his Queen forward. "Why didn't you tell me she was unstable?" He asked. "Why did you treat her so badly when she wasn't in a good state of mind?"

"You didn't need to know." He responded. "She was an unruly woman, whether she was in a good state of mind or not. I couldn't allow her to speak to me in such a way, so I made sure that she didn't overstep her bounds."

"You didn't have to hit her." The Prince said.

His father stared for a moment, and moved his King. "No, maybe I didn't." He admitted. "I suppose I resented her, in a way, for not being the woman I wanted to marry, but instead the one I was forced to. I resented her because... You always seemed to love her more, while I... Meant nothing to you."

The Prince moved his Queen again and claimed his father's Queen. He picked up the black chess piece and ran his thumb across it. "That's not true. We were just... Distant, that's all."

"We both wanted what was best for you. I still do, everything I've ever done... It was always for you, for her and the benefit of this kingdom."

That wasn't strictly true. There had been times where he hadn't put his family first. But his father seemed to believe it... Perhaps he had convinced himself.

"Despite everything I put her though, and what she put me through, we did love each other... In some mixed up, backwards sort of way... We were just incompatible, we were no good for each other and yet... We stuck together. But I have no idea how, and I still don't."

His father finished off his whiskey and slammed the glass down on the desk, nearly shattering it. He then looked at the chess board "Oh, it seems you've beaten me." He commented, shifting the topic entirely.

The Prince glanced at the chess board. He was right, he had reached checkmate. "So I have." He murmured. He had been so engrossed in their conversation he hadn't noticed.

"And it also seems I'm out of liquor." His father commented, rising from his chair. "I'm going to go ask one of the servants to fetch me some more." He declared, hobbling around the table. "And then we'll have another game."

"Yeah, I'm up for another one." The Prince agreed.

His father paused beside him and placed his hand on his son's shoulder "Do you want me to ask the servants to get you anything?"

"No thank you." He replied, turning away and staring blankly at a single spot on the table, avoiding his father's gaze.

His father lingered for a moment. "I do love you, Adam. You know that, right?" He asked. He sounded broken.

"I know." The Prince replied.

His father leaned down and kissed him on the head, before turning and leaving.

The Prince sat in stunned silence. He couldn't remember the last time his father had kissed him. It was likely that he would never do that again.

He glanced at his father's portrait, at the man that stood tall and proud, positively oozing with confidence. And then he compared it to that of the man he had just seen leave the room. They seemed so different, like they were two completely different people. "Sometimes... I feel like I don't know you at all." He told it.

* * *

They never spoke of that day again. Beast had assumed his father didn't remember it happening, and he didn't dare to bring it up.

He remembered his father's portrait, and realised that it was still lying propped against the desk, completely ripped to shreds.

He didn't blame him so much anymore about his current situation. He didn't blame himself much either, after his breakdown. He wasn't really sure who to blame.

He wondered if his father, the man he had known his whole life, had all just been a lie. A mask that he had adopted to hide his true self. The only time that mask was ever allowed to slip... Was when he was drunk.

Or maybe everything he had said that night was a lie too. Maybe it was all a sob story, so that he would feel sorry for him, and not hate him for everything he had done.

There was no way of ever knowing what was real and what was not with his father.

He had adopted a mask too, to hide his true self. The mask he had was similar to his father, the way he acted, what he believed in... But that wasn't the real him... Was it? Maybe Beast had been wearing it for too long that he had forgotten who he truly was.

Maybe his father did want what was best for him. After all, he had helped him arrange the dance party, with all the maidens that had been invited. It had been in the works for such a long time.

But his father had gone away on a trip several months before it. Whenever it seemed like he was returning, a message would arrive stating that he was staying away longer.

Two nights before the party, a private message arrived, with news about his father.

He... He had died.

He had gotten sick during his trip, and had succumbed to his illness before he could make the journey home.

Back then, Beast had decided that his coronation and funeral could wait. He would pick a wife first, and then they could have a wedding and coronation all in one.

But it hadn't worked out as he had planned... He wasn't married, he wasn't a King... He wasn't even a Prince.

He was just a beast.

He hadn't told any of the servants about his father's death. He had almost forgotten about it himself... But he would have to tell them eventually. He was surprised none of them had asked. Perhaps they had assumed he didn't know.

He wondered what had become of his body. Beast no longer existed in the minds of the people, but his mother and father must have... Right?

The curse seemed to get even more complicated the more he thought about it.

Although, something about his father's death bugged him.

For the longest time, it had almost seemed like he had known his time was coming to an end. He had wanted Beast to get married, he wanted to see him settled down, so that he was secure and safe. He hadn't known why they needed to rush.

But now he felt like he knew.

There were two scenarios that played out in his head. The first was that, as the message had said, he had fallen ill, just like his mother, and died.

The second scenario was very different, and was based upon what he had seen in that study, that quiet night, playing chess with that drunk, old man. It was based upon the version of his father that was emotional, broken and grief stricken over the loss of his wife. That his emotions had been building up for years and he had no one to confined in, no one to support him, because he was the King, he had to stay strong. He had no way of escaping them.

Except through death.

It was possible that his father hadn't been sick at all, that the message was fabricated, to make his father look like a better man. That he had climbed onto the edge of the ship on the crossing back home... And jumped into the ocean and allowed the waves to carry him away.

Beast would never know for sure.

Sometimes... He hated his father. Sometimes he had found himself wishing he had died instead of his mother.

But other times, he would never wish death upon him. He would have wanted both of them to be alive.

Other times, he found himself loving him... In some mixed up, backwards sort of way.

He was conflicted. He would never fully be able to determine how he felt about him... Nor would he ever be able to determine what had been real about him, and what hadn't.

But now, he could move on. He had thought about his mother, and thought about his father. There were things he had skipped over, times where his father had shouted at him, called him pathetic, a failure, a sorry excuse for a prince and a son... But he would rather leave those in the past.

Now, he felt better, or at least somewhat. He had finally dealt with his past. He just wasn't sure what he would do with himself now... What else would he think about?

He'd figure it out eventually.

Beast walked down the steps and out onto the walkway to head back to the balcony, just as the clouds began to part, and he could finally see the bright, twinkling stars.

He wondered if they were up there somewhere, looking down at him.

He just hoped that, whether they were now, together or not, they were at least peaceful in death.

* * *

 **A/N - What his father is truly like has been left ambiguous, as he was rather ambiguous in the movie too. You can interpret him in many different ways, judging him on his actions, his ideals, and how he treated his wife and son.**

 **This is the last chapter to include a flashback, as Beast has dealt with the memories of his past, and is trying to move on.**

 **Just to add, I'm not avid player of chess, I did some research into it, but I wrote the movement of the chess pieces more to aid the narrative, than to be a realistic chess game.**

 **I'm currently writing chapter 22, so next week I think I'll post the next chapter, and then post another one half way through the week, as I'm pretty far ahead now when it comes to stock piling. Expect a chapter to appear next Sunday, and on the following Wednesday. I might continue to post like that, we'll see. I'm not sure if I've stated this before, but there will be around 32/33 chapters all together. I'm nearing the end of the writing process, so all that will be left is to post it. So look forward to that.**


	13. Chapter 12 - Caged Monster

**Chapter 12 - Caged Monster**

Beast was visiting his mother's grave again. He had used the enchanted book to travel there, as it was the easiest option.

He wasn't there to remember anything, or to give into his emotions. He just wanted to keep her company. He wanted to make up for all those years where he hadn't visited her. He didn't want her to be alone.

Sometimes, he wondered if his mother was buried there, or if this was just a memorial site dedicated to her, and her body was somewhere else. He would never know for sure, unless he dug her up, which he had no intention of ever doing.

The fairy tale book he had left her was still in good condition, as the apple tree must have sheltered it from the elements. It was a little tattered and worn, from being outside, and must have gotten wet at least once or twice, probably from rain water dripping from the leaves, but other than that, it was intact. He had been worried about it blowing away, perhaps being carried off by some strong winds. But there it still was, and there is where it would stay, resting on the grass in front of the tombstone.

Beast hadn't brought anything for her this time. He had thought about bringing her a rose from the garden, but he had grown to dislike roses a great deal, due to one in particular being the source of his misery.

Instead, he was reciting a quote about Guinevere and Lancelot aloud for her. He remembered it off by heart. "For madam, I love not to be constrained to love; for love must arise of the heart, and not by no constraint."

It was one of his mother's favourite lines. It confirmed the all-consuming power of love and Lancelot's utter devotion to Guinevere.

He wondered if his mother ever dreamed of knowing a love like that of Guinevere and Lancelot. Perhaps that was why she had grown so attached.

The hillside was silent. A light breeze rushed passed him, whipping up his cloak, moving his tail and rustling the branches of the trees. Despite the calm, peacefulness of the countryside, something felt... Off. He just couldn't figure out what.

His ear twitched. He turned his head slightly, to look behind him. And that's when he heard it. The loud barks of a dog.

Before he could react, a large, fierce black dog pounced on him. Beast fell back and crashed into his mother's gravestone, as the dog sunk its teeth into his arm as he tried to hold it back. He let out a cry of pain.

The dog was tugging at his arm, almost like it was trying to rip it off. Beast didn't know what to do, his mind was racing. He tried to focus on going back to the castle, to return to library and the book.

But nothing happened.

He was still there, the angry dog now trying to bite at his throat. That's what they were trained to do, to go for the neck and take a chunk out of it. He knew that, he had seen Wilfred do it. It was the quickest way for them to kill prey. This was clearly a hunting dog, but he couldn't figure out the breed, as he was too busy trying to stop the dog from killing him.

He had his injured arm held underneath the dog's chin, keeping it as far away as possible, which was only a tiny distance. He could see all of it's teeth, feel the saliva dripping onto his face as it barked and snarled.

It would seem that it would take his full concentration to return to castle, just the same as it did when using the book to get there. And he couldn't even begin to concentrate when the dog was barrelling down on him, inches away from ripping his throat out.

Why was magic so complicated?!

He stared into the dog's rabid, hungry eyes. He leaned further back onto his mother's tombstone, trying to distance himself from the dog's snapping jaws even more. He heard the tombstone begin to creak and crack, and the earth in front of it was upturned as it collapsed under his weight.

His mother's tombstone... Had been destroyed.

Something within Beast snapped. The animal caged inside of him, that was lurking away in the back of his mind came to the surface, clouding all of his thoughts and judgement, sending him into a frenzy. His only thought, no, his only instinct was to fight.

He let out a mighty roar, revealing all of his fangs before he grabbed hold of the dog by its collar with his uninjured arm and threw it with such ease. The dog let out a frightened yelp as it was hurled through the air, and a sickening crack followed as it landed heavily on it's back, and let out a pained cry, before rolling down the hill.

Beast got up, shaking with fury and rage. There was more barking coming from the bottom of the hill, as well as shouts and the thundering of hooves.

He glanced at his mother's grave, the slab lying on the ground, split in two. He wouldn't be able to fix that. He gritted his teeth and spun around, moving towards the sound of the hunters and their dogs. He'd make them pay for this.

But he hesitated, and the world around him seemed to stand still for a moment. The apple tree's leaves stopped moving in the wind, and so did the blades of grass. The shouts and barks were mere echoes.

 _What are you doing?!_ The rational, more human side of his brain, that was no longer in control, screamed. _You'll be seen! Do you want to die?!_

 **They'll be dead before they can do anything to me.** The animalistic, cruel, impulsive, unthinking side of him retorted.

 _You can't!_

 **Why not?!**

 _You can't kill them, that's not me! I would never do that!_

 **They're responsible for your mother's grave being destroyed. Don't you want revenge?!**

 _Yes, but not if it means killing them!_

 **So let's end this!**

 _No!_

 **You're such a pathetic worm. Never one to get your hands dirty. Well now you have to decide! You're not human anymore, so why are you still pretending to be?!**

Everything started moving again. The shouts and barks became louder. What he did next was not only a choice, but also his instinct of fight or flight kicking in.

He chose to run.

He turned and staggered down the other side of the hill, towards the thicket. That's where the castle was, hidden deep within the forest. He had to get there.

He tripped and fell over the steep incline, and landed on all fours. Instead of correcting himself, he carried on running on all fours, as he wasn't getting anywhere on two legs.

He sprinted down the hill, reaching the bottom and charging towards the line of trees. He could hear the dogs, the hunters and the horses behind him. If he had to guess, they were at the top of the hill now, in hot pursuit.

A gun shot rang out, but as far as he was aware, it did not strike him. He felt no sharp pain, so he had to be safe.

He didn't look over his shoulder, to check where they were, he just kept moving. He wasn't sure if he would be able to outrun them, but he had to try.

He reached the woods, but carried on running, dodging trees and bushes, stumbling over tree roots protruding from the ground. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Another gunshot rang out, zipping through the trees and striking one, chipping off the bark and sending splinters flying.

The dogs were still barking, they must have reached the forest by now. How many were there? It sounded like there were five or six.

He had to lose them somehow.

He bounded towards a long line of bushes, but as he ran in, he came to the terrible realisation that it was a thorn bush.

He let out a pained cry as the thorns dug into his flesh, stabbing at every part of his body. He dragged himself through the bush, but every movement was agonising. He managed to break through to the other side, but didn't take a second to rest.

The dogs tried to follow him through the bushes, he could hear them yelping. He could also hear the thundering of the horses' hooves against the forest floor. The hunters had reached the forest too.

He ran deeper into the woods, going as fast as he possibly could, weaving and diving, jumping over fallen trees.

And that's when he saw it, a path covered in white snow. That was it, his way back to the castle. He hoped that it was only visible to him, so that the hunters could not follow.

As he crossed over into the winter forest, it felt like he was passing into another world. One minute it was warm, with sunlight breaking through the leaves, and the next it was cold, with snowflakes falling from the sky.

The sounds of the dogs and horses began to become distant as he continued running through the snow covered forest.

Eventually, he began to slow down, before stopping and collapsing at the roots of a tree. He rolled over and stared up the sky and the withered tree branches. The world seemed to be spinning, and he felt slightly dizzy. His chest was heaving, his throat was sore as he struggled to breath. His whole body was trembling. He was completely exhausted.

The adrenaline rush was starting to fade, and was being replaced by a large amount of pain that surged through him. His muscles ached and were throbbing. Some thorns were still stuck in his flesh, and the dog bite on his arm was bleeding. His whole body felt like it was on fire, burning under the skin. As he glanced down, he noticed that the dog had also clawed at his chest, so he had several large scratches on it. His grey cloak was shredded after being dragged through the thorn bush, and his trousers were in tatters.

But at least he was alive.

Beast lifted his arm and put it over his eyes. The sound of the dogs barking, the hunters shouting and the horses running was now an echo on the wind. He was safe now, they wouldn't follow him here. If no one had stumbled upon his castle in the last however many years, then it was unlikely any hunters would either. It was probably surrounded by magic, and the trail he had saw probably would go unnoticed by anyone else. Perhaps the entrance shifted and changed, maybe it was never the same.

He decided to rest there for a while, to catch his breath back.

He wondered if the hunters had got a good look at him. Probably not, as he had been moving, to them he was just a blur. They might assume that he was a bear, or something like that.

He just couldn't believe that he had been hunted. He had been hunting so many times... Now he understood how that boar had felt all those years ago, running for its life. He was also the one that got away. He had almost become their prize kill. He would have been killed, like the animal he was. That's all they would have seen him as. He wondered what they would have made of him, they wouldn't have a clue what he was.

He decided not to think about what would have happened if he had died. It was just hard not to, after coming so close to death.

It would seem that he was back in control, or at least, the more human side of him. It slowly began to sink in that he had probably killed that dog or severely crippled it. The force in which it hit the ground and the crack from its back signified that its spine had been broken. Perhaps snapped in two... Just like his mother's gravestone.

Worst of all, he had actually considered, debated with himself, over killing those people. And he had been conscious, unlike when he nearly smashed Mrs Potts, he had felt like he had become detached from his mind and body, but this time... He had been fully aware of what he was doing.

And that's what scared him the most. He may not have gone through with it... But he still hurt that dog, and he still thought about doing the same to the hunters.

He could have done it if he wanted to. If every part of his being wanted them dead.

Was he losing his mind? Where did the line between human and animal start and end? What even was he on the inside anymore?

Beast moved his arm away from his eyes and shook his head. He could question himself about his mental state later, right now he just wanted to get back to the castle. He wasn't out of the woods yet, both literally and metaphorically.

He winced and rolled onto his front, and then trudged forwards on all fours. He was still in a great deal of pain, and his body was screaming at him to lie down and rest some more, but he refused. Something about the forest didn't feel right, he didn't feel safe here either. He had to keep moving.

He could try to return to the library again, will himself to go back to the book. But there wasn't much point, his mind was still foggy and he wasn't that far now. Plus he didn't know if he needed to be in the same place he had wanted to go to in order to return.

He wasn't sure if he was going in the right direction, he could have been going around in circles for all he knew. The icy, bitter wind blew in his face and caused his eyes to sting, so he lowered his head and pressed onwards, padding slowly.

After a while, he reached a ditch, or rather a deep embankment, with a frozen river cutting through it. It was a short gap, but he was in no fit state to jump it, as he was completely drained of energy. The other side was quite high, and would be an ordeal to climb, but there weren't many other options.

He dropped down onto the frozen river, landing fairly well, and moved towards the other side of the embankment. There was a overhanging tree above him, with some of its roots exposed and growing down towards the river.

Beast lifted his paws and grabbed hold of one of the exposed roots to pull himself up. He gradually got to his feet and was about to climb onto the embankment when his eyes landed on a bone chilling sight.

There was a pack of wolves only a short distance away, huddled round a dead deer caracas. He stared wide eyed as the wolves tore away at deer's flesh, blood staining their grey-ish white fur, covering their snouts and paws.

There had to be around eight... Maybe ten of them. Perhaps even more than that.

He knew they lived in the forest, he and the servants had heard them howling many times, but he never thought he'd actually run into them, nor would he ever want to. He wasn't sure where they had come from, or how long they had been there, but it didn't really matter. He just wanted to know how he was going to survive this.

One of the wolves lifted its head, ears pricked up, and looked in his direction. He exhaled sharply and ducked down, pressing his full body weight against the loose soil and crouching as low as possible.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

He breathed quietly as he heard the crunching of snow. He heard sniffing and looked over his shoulder, peering upwards. The wolf was standing high above him on the other side of the overhanging tree, sniffing the air.

Beast held his breath.

He watched the wolf silently, examining its thick fur, long sharp claws, and the blood smeared across its mouth. It panted, its visible breath moving skywards.

It lost interest, and turned away, most likely going back towards its pack.

Beast let out a sigh of relief and leaned back against the wall of the embankment. Any longer, and he would have had to breathe, which might have blown his cover.

But just when he thought he was in the clear, he heard a low, rumbling growl coming from behind him.

He turned sharply to find another wolf standing behind him. This one was much larger, bulkier, and was likely the leader of the pack. Its lips were curled back to reveal rows of razor sharp teeth, and its hackles were raised, making it look bigger and more threatening than it already was.

Any second, and it would pounce on him, maul him to death.

He couldn't let that happened.

His instincts kicked in again, but this time he fought back instead of running. He lashed out, clawing the wolf's face, scratching it across the eye.

There was so much blood.

The wolf howled in pain and reeled back, clenching its eyelid shut.

That was his window of opportunity, and he took it.

He didn't want to engage that wolf in a full fight, or the whole pack for that matter, so he ran. The adrenaline was back, and he jumped up the embankment and ran passed the wolves.

He heard the howling behind him as they gave chase. He didn't look back, he ignored the pain of his injuries and kept going, never stopping for a second.

He caught sight of the gate leading to the castle grounds. He sprinted towards it, bursting through the gate and charging towards the castle. The wolves did not follow.

Beast could see the castle now. He had never been so happy to see it, despite the fact that he had wanted to get away from it for so long.

There was no place like home.

He hurried up the steps and burst through the front door, startling the servants. He collapsed onto the floor, knowing that he was finally safe, that he could finally rest.

"Master, what on earth happened?!" Lumiere cried, rushing to his aid.

"Dogs... Hunters... They.. Attacked me... Had to- had to run all the way back... here." He replied, hardly able to speak, as all of the wind had been knocked out of him. For once in a very long time, he was actually level with Lumiere, as Beast's head was pressed against the floor, making Lumiere nearly as tall as him.

"Dogs, hunters, wolves? But we thought you were in the library!" Lumiere replied.

Beast attempted to rise, but his legs buckled. He was too weak to stand. "Chapeau, help him up." Cogsworth ordered the coat rack.

Chapeau leaned down as much as his coat rack body allowed him and helped Beast to his feet. "Bring him by the fire." Lumiere told him.

Chapeau helped Beast into a chair, and once he was in it, he pulled the chair closer to the fire, whilst rapping his cloak around himself more. "How did you end up running into a group of hunters and wolves?" Lumiere asked.

"I wanted to visit my mother's grave again so I used the enchanted book... And then they caught me off guard." Beast replied.

The servants exchanged glances "Why didn't you just use the book to come back?" Cogsworth asked.

"I couldn't, it wouldn't work... I wasn't focused enough on returning here... I was too busy trying not to die." He explained.

"Did they follow you here?" Mrs Potts asked worriedly.

"No, I lost them." He told her.

"Are you sure?" Cogsworth butted in.

"Yes." Beast insisted rather agitatedly. "Do you think I would have come back here if they were right on my tail?!" He yelled angrily, getting up from the chair. A surge of pain rushed through him and he clutched his head and sat back down.

"Of course not, Master." Cogsworth responded fearfully.

"Try to take it easy, Master. You've been through quite an ordeal. Is there anything we can get for you, something to tend to your wounds?" Lumiere asked concernedly.

"I'm fine. I just need to rest." He responded, attempting to get up again and succeeding in doing so.

"But master, you're bleeding. Just take a minute to sit before you move." Lumiere recommended.

"I said I'm fine! I can manage on my own!" He shouted. His head throbbed. He felt dizzy, was he dehydrated? He felt a little hungry too... He'd have to deal with that later, he just wanted to go to bed and forget this day ever happened.

"Master, your cloak has been ripped to shreds! The seamstresses made some clothes for you to wear that will fit your size some time ago, why don't you wear one of those instead?" Mrs Potts suggested.

"I don't care about clothes a group of spinning wheels and sewing machines made! Just leave me in peace!" He retorted, storming off, even though he was still rather uneasy.

As he was making his way to bed, he thought of the enchanted book in the library. Would it work, now that he was out of danger...? All of a sudden, he was back there, standing in front of that god forsaken book.

Beast gritted his teeth and slammed his paw against the table. "Now you work?!" He exclaimed angrily, yelling at the inanimate book. "After everything I just went through?!"

Now he could focus on returning to the book?! His mind was clear now?!

He picked up the book and was about to toss it into the roaring flames in the fireplace, but stopped himself. It would be so easy, he would finally be rid of it, and the temptation it brought. He could watch it burn along with the wooden logs.

What was the point in trying? It probably wouldn't burn anyway, after all, it was magic. The enchanted mirror didn't break when he first used it and tried to smash it against the ballroom floor.

He stuffed it onto the shelf and left the library, slamming the door shut. "Master, I thought you were going to bed?" Lumiere asked him, clearly confused. Why did he keep popping up everywhere?!

"Lock the library up! And if I ever try to use that stupid enchanted book again, then stop me! I don't care how you do it, just make sure I don't make another mistake like that!" He ordered, shouting in his face. "That thing has caused me nothing but misery." He muttered, stomping passed Lumiere and heading upstairs to his room.

Once he arrived in the comfort of his bedroom, he immediately climbed into bed and surrounded himself with the warm sheets. He glanced down at his bitten arm, and the claw marks on his chest, and his thorn riddled body, and began to pluck them out, one by one. Some of them were deeply buried in his flesh and proved difficult pulling out. He had to use his teeth on a few.

He swore, he would never leave the castle again. Today was just a cruel reminder that there was no place for him in this world. Not even his mother's grave was a safe place to go. He'd never be able to go back.

He never should have left. He shouldn't have tempted fate. If he had stayed away... Then her grave would still be intact.

He has tainted her final resting place just by being there. Was he doomed to ruin everything he touched?

There was nothing the outside world would ever see him as except a monster, and he had proven that today, by possibly breaking that dog's spine, or going as far as to kill it.

The dog bite stung. He hissed through gritted teeth and rolled onto his side. He then attempted to lick the wound in order to clean it, but it only hurt more. Why on earth was he even licking himself?

He stopped and lowered his arm, staring blankly at his paws.

He saw the blood from the wolf under his claws.

He nearly killed those people too. He was seconds away from running down that hill and mauling them to death. He... He couldn't imagine what would have happened if he had gone through with it.

Now he knew what the castle had become. It wasn't a home, nor was it a prison, it was something even more degrading. It was a cage. If he couldn't keep the monster within him contained, then the castle was the next line of defence, keeping him away from everyone and everything.

Perhaps it wasn't the outside world he needed protecting from. Maybe the outside world needed protecting from him.

* * *

 **A/N - To answer your questions Guest22:**

 **No, I never gave Beast's parents names. I could never settle on one, plus I didn't think he'd ever refer to them by name. My favourite scene from the movie, though, it's hard for me to settle on one. I suppose I'd have to say the ballroom dance between Beast and Belle. Pretty iconic. And this chapter alone answers your third question.**

 **Next chapter will be up on Wednesday. The schedule will be Wednesday, Sunday, Wednesday, Sunday and so on and so forth. You get the picture. I'm 7 chapters away from finishing the writing process, so that's why I'll be posting my often, so that the posted chapters can begin to catch up with me as I pull ahead.**

 **This chapter is the first action packed one. I love writing fast paced stuff. Really sucks you in to the story. It also might be setting up for a scene during the movie plot, you can probably guess which one. Really shows off Beast's deteriorating mental state too.**

 **Anyway, I'll see you in 3 days. Hope you enjoyed.**


	14. Chapter 13 - Down a Dark Path

**Chapter 13 - Down a Dark Path**

Beast had a feverish dream that same night. His wounds and entire body ached and stung as he tossed and turned in bed, kicking off the sheets.

He felt like he was falling. He could feel air rushing passed him as he spiralled downwards into a black void, the light above him fading fast, out of his reach.

And then he hit the ground.

He gasped, as the wind was completely knocked out of him. Suddenly, he was no longer in his room, nor in the comfort of his bed. He was outside, in the forest.

The sky was a deadly shade of red, tinting everything around him, the snow beneath his feet, the trees surrounding him, with the same crimson shade.

He rolled over onto his front and attempted to rise to his feet. But he couldn't. It was almost as if some invisible force was pressing down on him, keeping him on all fours. It was like there were a ton of bricks placed upon his back.

His nose caught a whiff of something. He sniffed the air, the scent overwhelming his nostrils. He scanned the trees and caught sight of his target.

It was a boar, and it was standing only a short distance away.

Beast growled. His driving instinct to kill and eat took over and he charged, running straight towards the boar.

The wild pig squealed and started running away, but he pursued it, powering himself forwards. His injuries were gone and his body was no longer drained, giving him the freedom of movement and a driving force to push on. He could do anything.

He caught up to the boar with such ease and pounced on top of it just as they reached a clearing. The boar cried out in fear, and began to struggle, kicking its legs frantically as he pinned it to the ground. It squealed louder, and continued thrashing about, swinging its tusks and attempting to get a good angle to hit him.

Beast bared his teeth and reeled his head back before coming down on the boar's neck, sinking his fangs deep into its flesh. The boar cried out it pain, still kicking its legs wildly in a vain attempt to escape.

He sunk his fangs deeper, before finally pulling his head back and ripping a large chunk of the boar's throat out.

The boar stopped squirming, its legs stopped moving as blood pooled from its torn open neck.

Beast spat out the chunk of the boar's neck, and went over to its chest, tearing open its stomach using his claws. Its in-trails spilled onto to the forest floor, staining the already red tinted snow. The sky was still dark, and ominous but he ignored it as he began feasting upon the boar's guts.

There was so much blood. It was coating his fur, his paws, his mouth, and trapped under his claws.

He put his paws on the boar's fresh caracas and began pulling pieces of flesh out using his bear teeth.

"Adam." A familiar voice called out. He froze.

Beast lifted his head and looked at the edge of the clearing. He caught sight of a woman standing beside a tree, dressed in a simple, white nightgown. She began to approach him, her feet completely bare. The sky grew darker, with a large amount of clouds rolling over the red haze.

A strong wind whipped up and whirled around them, causing her long, blonde hair to blow across and shield her face from view. But even then, he knew exactly who she was.

She stopped in front of him, the dead boar separating the too. She lifted her bowed head, and the wind began to die down, causing her blonde hair to fall neatly by her shoulders, framing her face.

It was his mother.

He knelt in stunned silence as she stared down at him with cold, empty eyes. He could see himself in her eyes. The terrible creature that stared back had dark eyes, its lips curled back to reveal its sharp fangs, and the blood that filled its mouth.

Even though this form had become 'normal' to him... The monster reflected in her eyes was unrecognisable.

"What have you turned yourself into?" She questioned. "What have you allowed yourself to become?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Just a low, rumbling growl.

He could no longer speak.

She gave him a saddened expression "What happened to my sweet, innocent boy?" She asked, kneeling down in front of him. "Is there anything left of him? Anything left of the original you in there?"

He wanted to answer her, he wanted to say yes, that somewhere, deep within him, in a place he could not access, was her little boy. But he couldn't tell her anything. He just sounded like an animal.

"You're not my son... I don't know what you are anymore."

He felt like he had been stabbed in the heart. Hearing those words uttered from her lips was soul crushing.

"I'll tell you what he is. He's a low-lying, good for nothing abomination." Another familiar voice declared.

He glanced to the side and caught sight of another figure.

It was his father.

"What a disappointment you turned out to be. All that wasted money, time and energy, and for what? So that you could become... This." His father said scornfully, unable to describe him fully "And quite frankly, it sickens me to look at you."

Beast stared at them, glancing back and forth at his parents. His mouth was gapping open, he had no idea what to do.

Had they returned from beyond the grave just to tell him how ashamed they were?

He looked towards the edges of the clearing, and noticed more figures. They were dark shadows, hidden amongst the trees, surrounding him, suffocating him.

One of them he recognised as Angelica.

Were the figures people he had hurt throughout his life?

"It would seem the handsome young prince wasn't able to hold onto his humanity." Another person spoke up. "That didn't last very long now, did it?"

Beast spun around and his eyes landed on a figure he never thought he'd see again.

It was the Enchantress.

"That form matches what lies within you, now more than ever." She commented. "Why do you still want to be human when you aren't? You're an animal, inside and out. Always have been. It only took a small transformation to bring it out of you. And that's how you're going to stay... For the rest of your eternal life."

Beast snarled, his inner fury unleashed as he charged towards her. He pounced, but instead of landing on her and pinning her to the ground... He found himself back in bed, confined within the castle once more.

He blinked a couple of times and lifted his head. Dawn was breaking, with sunlight shining through the frameless windows on the balcony and filling the room with its golden glow.

He shielded his eyes from the bright morning sun and rolled over onto his back.

It was just a dream. His subconscious tormenting him about all of his concerns and fears, manifesting and taking the form of his parents, and the Enchantress herself. He may have gotten over their deaths, but the thought of what they might think of him now if they were here still haunted him.

He let out a sigh of relief. It wasn't real.

He hadn't had a dream in a long time. He did have quite a few sleepless nights, and even when he did sleep, if he had any dreams, then he never remembered them. But that dream... It felt different, not like any of the others he had experienced throughout his lifetime. For a while, he had been so convinced that he had gone through all of it, despite how unrealistic some of it seemed.

He sat up and grunted when his injuries from the day before stung. They didn't hurt as much, but the pain was still there.

He glanced down at the bed, and his eyes widened when he saw claw marks raked across the wooden bed frame, as well as the pillow and mattress, causing all of the stuffing to leak out.

Had he done that during his sleep?

There was a metallic taste in his mouth and overwhelming smell in his room. It smelt like... Raw meat.

He glanced down at his paws, and noticed that there was blood, fur and pieces of flesh underneath his claws.

Beast looked around, and caught sight of the source of the smell. It was a dead boar, lying on his bedroom floor, surrounded by a pool of its own blood that was staining the stone.

It was facing him, its lifeless eyes staring directly at him. Its throat had been torn open, and so had its stomach.

Just like... In his dream.

"It wasn't a dream?" He questioned aloud. At least he could talk now, not being able to was frightening. He wouldn't know what to do with himself if he could only make animal noises.

He was glad the Enchantress left him with that ability. He would need it, in order to communicate with someone he wanted to fall in love with him.

He climbed out of bed and walked over to the boar. He thought he'd be more shocked, perhaps reel back in horror, but... He didn't feel anything.

He scooped it up using both arms. Holding it was easy enough, despite its size. He then carried it downstairs to the kitchen. Once he entered, he dumped the dead body on the middle table, much to the servants' surprise.

"Can anyone explain to me why this was in my room?" He asked.

"You don't remember?" Cogsworth questioned. "You ran out of here in the dead of night and came back dragging that boar along with you." The mantle clock explained.

Seeing his parents again might not have been real, but the killing of the boar was. He tried to recall actually committing the act... But his mind drew a blank. Just like when he had tried to smash Mrs Potts.

"No, I don't remember." He replied.

Had he taken sleep walking to the extreme?

"You did have a rather strange look in your eyes..." Lumiere commented. "They were so dark and empty. You weren't yourself at all."

Beast stared at the dead boar for a moment. "I think I'm losing my mind." He murmured.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it, Master. You went through quite an ordeal yesterday. Perhaps this is just a repercussion of that?" Lumiere suggested "You're still restless, you should go back to bed. This is probably just a one off."

"I wish I could believe that." Beast replied, turning away.

"What do you want us to do with this?" Cogsworth asked, gesturing at the boar.

He glanced back at them "Just cut it up and serve it for dinner. You can probably make it last for a few nights." He responded, before leaving.

As he walked back upstairs, he began to wonder what exactly had occurred last night. In his dream, he had killed a boar... But he had also killed one in reality.

At least he had gotten one at long last. It wasn't the same one he had shot at all those years ago, but it was close enough.

He didn't feel very accomplished though.

Perhaps he was still stuck in that animalistic mind frame, or maybe it was just a lingering after affect of when his survival instinct had kicked in.

He had been quite hungry yesterday, and he hadn't eaten anything. Maybe his body and mind had driven him into going and hunting down the nearest prey.

Why was he acting like an animal all of a sudden? He was never like this before.

Or had he?

Come to think of it, none of this was really a recent occurrence. Humans don't walk on all fours, they don't growl at dogs that only want attention, eat with only their fingers and mouths, follow scent trails, and rip up everything with their claws that they weren't even supposed to have.

He hadn't been human for a very long time. The moment he was turned into a beast, his state of being had been changing, to become just like his appearance. He had lost himself, his identity, his humanity... Everything.

He really was an animal. And he wasn't even trying to hide it anymore. Because there was no hiding from it. There was no way to save himself from it.

If he had to speculate, he would say that last night's dream was a warning. A premonition of what was to come. If he never found love, if he never broke the curse, then that monster, that unthinking, unfeeling, mindless creature, which only instinct was to hunt and kill, was what he was going to become. It was what he was slowly becoming, every second of every day, he was slipping, going further down a dark path that he wouldn't be able to go back from. Soon, there would be nothing left of his human self within this form. Eventually, he would lose himself forever if he allowed it to happen.

Not only had he woken up from the dream... But he had also truly woken up to his reality, and the darkness that was consuming his mind. There was something within him, a voice, a whisper, nagging at him, telling him to let go. His boiling anger and untameable rage needed to - wanted to be set free.

He wasn't sure if he'd be able to ignore it forever.

* * *

 **A/N - This is really just a follow on to the previous chapter, to add on to what happened, as most of the chapters have taken place quite a fair distance apart in terms of time frame recently.**


	15. Chapter 14 - Never-ending Suffering

**Chapter 14 - Never-ending Suffering**

Dreams can be strange. Sometimes they can be idiotic and so unbelievable, beyond all rational thought. And when you wake up you'll say 'that was ridiculous' or something along those lines and then go about your day. Other times, the whole experience can feel so real, as if you've lived a whole other lifetime inside a dream. But then you wake up and realise that it was all just a fantasy.

Those are the type of dreams that stick with you, the ones that make you question what is real and what isn't.

During his time as a beast, he had several dreams about becoming human again, that he finally woke up from this nightmare. But then he truly woke up, and realised that he was still trapped in this living hell.

Beast had become more fearful of himself and what he was truly capable of after he killed that boar while he was asleep. So much so that he was afraid of going to bed altogether. Sadly, he did need rest, so giving up on sleep wasn't an option.

Instead, he fashioned a rope made out of his old clothes and spare bed sheets, that he could tie himself to the bed frame with. It was unlikely that it would be able to restrain him, but he didn't have anything else to tie himself down with. It just helped him to rest easy, knowing he was at least somewhat secure.

He never did end up having another dream like the one he had that same night he killed the boar. He was still utterly convinced that it was a premonition of what was to become of him. It was only a matter of time before it became his reality.

But beside that, he didn't have any dreams like that again, nor did he end up running out of the castle in the middle of the night to catch and kill any unsuspecting creatures. So he eventually stopped tying himself to the bed frame and luckily enough, nothing happened when he let his guard down.

The wounds he had sustained healed. They bothered him for quite a few days, but eventually the pain went away.

That was some time ago now. How long exactly he did not know, and he couldn't be bothered to ask Cogsworth. He didn't care all that much anyway.

Today started like any other. He left his room and went downstairs for breakfast. Mrs Potts came wheeling over on her trolley to offer him tea. Or at least, that's what she should have done, as that was the routine, but instead she had something to say.

The situation seemed awfully familiar. The last time she had wanted to tell him something he had a breakdown at his mother's grave... The same grave that now lie in ruin... That he could never visit again. He hoped she had better news this time around.

"It's your birthday today." She told him.

Beast was in the middle of eating a bowel of porridge using only his mouth, his entire face almost completely submerged in it.

"Is that so?" He replied through a mouthful of porridge. He had no idea. He didn't know what day it was, nor the month or year.

He recalled her telling him about his birthday a couple of times before. However, he had lost track of the exact amount.

"Yes." She responded. "Would you like to do anything this year?" She asked.

He swallowed and wiped his mouth on his arm, leaving a trail of sticky, white porridge in his fur. "You ask me that every year, and every time I say no. What makes you think this year will be any different?" He questioned.

"Well, I just feel like I should ask in case you ever change your mind." She replied.

He started licking the porridge off his fur. He wasn't very focused on the conversation anymore, in fact he hadn't been in the first place. As far as he was concerned it was over.

"You're thirty four this year." She informed him.

He paused and retracted his tongue, turning his head to look at her fully instead of just glancing at her through the corner of his eye. "Wait, how old was I when all of this started?" He asked. He couldn't remember exactly, but he had to have been at least twenty or something. Why couldn't he remember clearly?

"You were twenty four." She answered.

"What?" He blurted out in surprise.

"Twenty four." Mrs Potts repeated for him.

"I heard you, I just-" He stopped mid sentence and stared down at his plate, and then at his fur covered arm. "Has it really been that long?" He breathed in disbelief.

Ten years. He had been stuck like this for ten years. It was hard to take that in, he couldn't fully accept it. How could the transformation feel just like it was yesterday and yet feel like it was so long ago simultaneously?

"I'm afraid so." She responded, even though he had been talking more to himself than her.

"I don't feel any older." He stated, rubbing his neck with his paw.

"Most people don't feel any different on their birthday, but after a while you start to notice some changes." Mrs Potts explained.

"No, I mean... I don't think I am any older." Beast replied. "I haven't aged a day ever since I was changed into this... thing." He said, gesturing at his grotesque body. "Technically, yes, I am thirty four, that's how long I have been on this earth. But physically... I'm exactly the same as I was the day I was transformed. And it doesn't matter how old I am, I could be a hundred and I'll still look exactly the same. I'm going to be stuck like this for all time... Because I can't die from old age." He murmured sadly, his tone of voice clearly showing he was upset. He was utterly devastated. "When you're all gone, I'll still be here... When the castle crumbles and becomes a pile of rubble, I'll still be standing... Alone and forgotten."

Mrs Potts was silent. She seemed moved by his words. She finally spoke after a moment of silence. "I'm sorry, Master. I wish there was something I could do to make it better-"

"You can't." He interrupted her "There's nothing you can do or say to make me feel better."

She sighed sadly. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"You have a habit of doing that anyway." He responded scornfully "Maybe next time keep your mouth shut, then you won't have to worry about upsetting me." He growled.

He pushed his empty plates away and stood up from his chair "I'd appreciate it if you didn't bring up my birthday again."

It wasn't a request. He didn't want her to mention it ever again.

"I'm going back to my room. See to it that no one bothers me."

And with those grudge-filled words, he left the dining room and walked back upstairs to his living quarters.

Now that he thought about it, there wasn't anything he had celebrated over the past few years. Not his birthday, not Christmas, not New Year's... Nothing like that. No wonder he didn't remember how many years it had been, he didn't have anything to remind him.

As he entered his room and shut the door behind him, and essentially shutting out everyone and everything as well, he began to remember just how special of an occasion his birthday used to be.

When his mother was still around, every year they'd have a ballroom dance. It wasn't ever that big of a party, all the servants would be there, and they'd bring along their family members from the neighbouring village, much to his father's disgust.

But after she was gone, the parties got wilder. Every year, the guest list would get longer, with so many upper class, rich people that he didn't even know. The party would be grander, the cake would be bigger, with so many layers. It was because his father was in charge of throwing the party, he wanted the very best for his son. Or to make himself look good. It was probably the latter.

It had gotten to the point where his birthday had become a holiday in itself.

Despite so many parties that always seemed to be better than the last, his favourite birthday celebration was actually rather simple.

It had been his eighth birthday. His father was away, on the other side of the country, and hadn't been able to make it back in time. The young prince had been disappointed, so his mother suggested that they'd go out for a picnic in the garden, just the two of them. He cheered up almost straight away.

He and his mother had sat close to one of the water features, alongside a row of blue wild indigo, on a freshly trimmed patch of grass.

They sipped freshly squeezed orange juice and stuffed their mouths with sandwiches and sweet, delicious pieces of chocolate cake.

His mother's skin and golden locks seemed to glow and shimmer that sunny day.

Beast smiled as he recalled her laughing when he got chocolate on his nose and couldn't get it off. He then recalled that they played in the fountain, splashing each other with water.

But that smile faded when he remembered that he'd never have another birthday like that again. Not with her.

He'd do anything to spend another day with her, just doing something simple like that.

He supposed that it didn't really matter. Whether she was here or not, there was no point celebrating his birthday. Not when he didn't age, not when he couldn't grow any older. It was pointless.

He doubted that he'd be in a mood to celebrate even if he could age.

He wondered what would happen if he turned back. Would his human form have aged?

It was unlikely.

Even still, ten years of his life was gone. That was quite a large chunk he'd never be able to get back. The outside world was forever changing, moving on without him, leaving him alone in the dust, stuck in this endless state of being.

His train of thought was interrupted when the door opened. The visitor didn't even bother to knock, which was rather grating.

"Greetings, master!" Lumiere exclaimed with delight as he entered. He sounded especially cheerful, more so than usual. Beast wasn't sure how he managed to remain so happy.

"What do you want, Lumiere?" He asked gruffly. Why could the servants never leave him in peace?

"Cogsworth and I were wondering if you would like to play a game of chess with us." The candlestick responded.

"Is this about my birthday?" Beast questioned, his brow furrowing.

"What? No, of course not!"

Lumiere had always been a terrible liar.

"I'm not stupid, Lumiere. I know you're just trying to cheer me up." He responded coldly. "After all, you've never invited me before, but on the one day that I'm particularly down, you suddenly want to socialise with me. Don't you think that seems a bit suspicious?"

Lumiere was quiet for a moment. "Alright, so maybe this is about your birthday." He admitted.

Beast grunted and turned away. He wasn't surprised in the slightest.

"But it doesn't have to be! Why don't we just have a nice, quiet game of chess, with no mention of your birthday whatsoever?" He suggested. "Come on, master, you used to love to play chess! In fact you always used to beat me."

"That was because you always let me win." Beast replied.

"That's not true! You were just much more skilled than me."

"Skilled enough to win every single game against you?" He questioned "Nobody is that perfect. You let me win because you were worried I'd get angry." He stated. "I always was a sore loser."

"Well, how about this time I don't hold back? Then we'll be equally matched." Lumiere suggested.

"So you admit that you were holding back all of those other times?"

Lumiere was quiet for a moment. "... You got me there."

"Look Lumiere, I really don't want to play chess with you. I don't want to do anything right now. I just want to go back to bed and think about nothing and wait for today to be over." Beast told him.

The candlestick stared silently for a few seconds "Can I be honest with you, master?" He requested permission to speak freely.

"If you like."

"I'm worried about you. We're all worried about you. We feel like we've lost you in some shape or form. I know you're in a dark place and you wouldn't expect me to understand how you must feel, but... You could try to help me understand. I want to understand."

After standing with his back to him for quite a while, Beast turned round to face him. "You want to know how I feel?" He questioned "I feel like I'm losing my mind. I can feel my anger bubbling away inside of me, ready to boil over at any moment. Anything can set me off, no matter how minor it is. It's like it has become apart of my personality. And I am trying SO hard to act like the person I once was but I can't... Because I'm not him anymore." Beast then drew closer to Lumiere "The person you used to play chess with, the person that always used to tell you and Plumette to keep off of each other... He's still in here somewhere." He told him, clawing at his own chest "I know that you all barely recognise me, by the way I look and the way I behave... And frankly I don't blame you. But most of all... I feel less human, now more than ever."

Lumiere stared up at him, and then smiled "See, wasn't that good, that you could finally get that off your chest?"

"I... I don't know." Beast replied.

"You know what would make you feel more human? If you played a game of chess with me. It'll be like the good old days."

Beast sighed "You don't give up easily, do you?" He questioned. "Fine, I'll play one game with you if you'll stop bothering me." He grumbled.

"That's the spirit!" Lumiere exclaimed. "Come on, let's get going! There's no time like the present!" He said, dashing out of the room.

Beast rolled his eyes and followed after. The chess board was set up on the landing overlooking the front entrance.

Cogsworth was there, making sure that everything was in order, one of the hands on his clock face taking the form of a monocle.

"Ah, master! So nice of you to join us!" Cogsworth greeted. "How did you manage to get him down here?" He whispered to Lumiere.

"There are some secrets I can never tell."

"...You just got lucky, didn't you?"

"I can hear you, you know." Beast interrupted. He couldn't believe they didn't figure that out when he was standing right in front of them.

Cogsworth laughed nervously "I'd keep a watchful eye on Lumiere if I were you, master. He cheats."

"I don't. You're just not as good at chess compared to me." Lumiere protested.

"Preposterous!"

Beast glanced back and forth between the two as they argued. "Can't we just get on with the game?" He intervened.

"Of course, master! Right away!" Cogsworth responded. He sounded fluster. Was he worried about Beast getting angry and lashing out? "I'll be your adjudicator, keeping an eye out funny business." He declared, glaring at Lumiere.

Beast sat down on a stool in front of the chess board. The stool creaked under his weight, but managed to support him. Lumiere had to stand on a stack of books placed on his stool in order to reach.

And so, the game was underway. It was a rather slow one, as Lumiere took his time. It wasn't that he was overthinking it, but that he was struggling to move the pieces.

After a while of silence and simply moving the pieces Lumiere spoke up. "You know what would make this so much easier?"

Beast didn't answer, he just nudged one of his knights forwards.

"If I had hands." Lumiere stated.

"It's amazing that you haven't set the pieces on fire." Cogsworth commented.

"I do have self control, Cogsworth." He retorted.

Beast's shoulder sagged. He had no self control. He knew that Lumiere wasn't trying to insult him... But it still shattered his already broken confidence.

"That's one of the things I miss, having hands. It's little things like that you take for granted." He stated, before nudging one of his pieces. "What do you miss, Cogsworth?"

"I miss having hands too. And legs. And not constantly ticking." The mantle clock replied.

"When we become human again, I look forward to getting all of that back. As well as my bodacious, charming looks and being able to touch Plumette again. Once I'm able to hold her in my arms, I'll never let her go."

"If we become human again." Beast muttered, his lack of hope emerging. It was clear as day that he didn't believe they'd ever break the curse.

"What do you miss, master?" Lumiere asked.

Beast was quiet for a moment. "There are a lot of things I miss. I could go on forever. But I'll spare you and refrain from going on a tangent." He responded, before moving another chess piece. "Checkmate." He declared. He had Lumiere's King boxed in, with no way to escape.

"Bravo! Good show, master!" The candle stick congratulated him. "Was that game satisfying enough for you?" He asked.

"You seemed to be putting effort into this one so... I suppose." Beast replied, rising from the stool.

"I told you that you were better than me at chess!"

"I guess you were right." Beast agreed, although he still didn't believe it. Lumiere must have let him win somehow. He nodded to both of them "Thank you, for the game." He said, before departing and heading back up to his room.

He wasn't alone very long though, as Mrs Potts arrived shortly after he had entered.

"Hello master." She greeted.

"What now?" He asked.

"I brought you up some cake." She stated, gesturing with a tilt of her teapot body at a large, brown cake. "Chocolate, your favourite."

Beast stared at it for a few seconds and then glanced back at her. "I know it's not much, but... Well, I thought I might treat you." She continued. "I know you don't want to... I'm not even going to say the 'b' word, but I thought you could just think of it as a special dessert."

"I'm not really that hungry." He replied, turning away.

"Oh." She responded.

A silence washed over them. Beast quietly stared out of the hole in the balcony wall, at the gently falling snow.

The quiet atmosphere was short lived. "Did you enjoy your chess game?" She asked.

Was she the one that had initially suggested that Lumiere should play a game with him? Perhaps. He decided not to ask.

"Yes." He answered simply.

"That's good." She responded. "I heard you talking about things you miss and it got me thinking..."

"About what?" He asked.

"About my husband. I miss him. Chip misses him." She told him. "I'd do anything to see him again."

Beast turned to look at her "You could, if you wanted." He replied. He then walked over to the pedestal and picked up the enchanted mirror. "Just ask, and it will show him to you."

There was a glint of pure joy in Mrs Potts eyes as she quickly approached "I'd like to see Mr Potts!"

Beast watched Mrs Potts' face, as the only thing he could see was the back of the mirror. The joy in her eyes began to fade. "Oh, that's right... He doesn't remember me." She whispered sadly, looking away from the image of her husband.

Beast turned the mirror around and looked at Mr Potts. He was tending to his donkey, stroking its ears and feeding it oats. He then glanced at Mrs Potts, who looked saddened, on the brink of tears in fact. She probably expected to see him grieving, missing her and his son. "But he's not with anyone." Beast commented.

The teapot met his gaze as he continued. "Look at him." He said, holding the mirror up to her again "He may not remember you, but perhaps deep down he knows that something in his life is missing. And he's waiting for it to return. He's waiting for you to come back to him."

Mrs Potts smiled as Beast lowered the mirror and placed it back on the pedestal. "Thank you." She said gratefully. "There is good in you, master."

He glanced back at her "I wish I could believe you but... I can't."

"You may not believe it, but I do. And I want to thank you, for not giving up. There were so many times that you could have ended it all but you're still here... After ten long years. Without you, we'd have no hope of breaking the curse."

"I'm too much of a coward to take my own life." Beast responded dismissively.

"You're not a coward... You're brave. It takes a lot of courage to keep going in such dark times."

"If you say so." He murmured. He then walked over and picked up the cake she had offered him. He scooped up a chunk with his fingers and began eating it.

"I thought you weren't hungry." She commented.

"I'm not. But I thought I'd have some, to show that I appreciate you putting up with me for so long."

Mrs Potts smiled "Well, I'll leave you to enjoy your cake." She said, and took her leave.

Beast brushed the cake crumbs off his paws and walked over to the edge of the balcony. He rested his arm on the wall and stared outside at the fading sunlight. He must have been playing chess for a lot longer than he thought.

At least his birthday was almost over. Tomorrow would be another day. Another day of his meaningless existence. He pushed himself off the wall and plodded over to the rose. He stared at it silently and touched the case with his claws.

Ten long years. It certainly hadn't been easy getting through it. Some days were harder than others. He hadn't been able to get out of bed on many occasions. Sometimes he felt like crying, but never did let out his emotions.

He lowered his paw and sighed. He had changed a lot since the transformation. His anger had become apart of his personality... Not to mention he had given into a few animal like tendencies.

He had also lost sight of the reason he was being punished. He mostly just blamed the rose for all of this, as he was only turned into a beast when he refused it. After watching so many petals fall... After watching his time to change his fate slip away, solely blaming all of his transgressions on the rose was bound to happen eventually.

How much longer would he have to wait before all of the petals fell? If he was going to spend the rest of his life as this monster, doomed to be trapped in this castle alone and forgotten, couldn't he just get it over with already?

He was so tired of waiting for the inevitable.

He didn't want to see the servants die. He didn't want to see them become inanimate objects, to end up being surrounded by what would essentially be their corpses.

But at the same time, he just wanted it to end. He'd rather see them die, rather than stand around and watch as they slowly died, day by day.

That's what it boiled down to, that's why he stayed away from them so much. Not because he'd prefer to be alone or because they annoyed them... But because by having less interactions, less memories of them... Losing them would be less painful.

He couldn't bear to make connections with them, to hold such strong bonds when he knew that he was going to have to see watch them die. Lumiere, Cogsworth, Mrs Potts, Plumette, and so many others... They all had names, they all had people they cared about, they all had hopes and dreams. But eventually they were going to become the object they inhabited the body of and nothing more.

The rose was running out of petals to lose. Soon, his time would be up.

But... Despite that he wanted it to be over, that he wanted it all to end...

He didn't want to be left alone.

* * *

 **A/N - Final chapter before the plot of the movie! Thanks for sticking with me, it's been a wild ride.** **I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that you are looking forward to what I have in store for you!**


	16. Chapter 15 - An Unexpected Visitor

**Chapter 15 - An Unexpected Visitor**

It had been a few months since his birthday. He was fairly certain that it hadn't been another year, but then again anything was possible.

The rose was wilting and losing petals much more rapidly and frequently. Beast was positive that more petals had fallen in the past few months than in the past few years. Nothing good could come from that.

At least the end was in sight now. He wanted nothing more than for it to all be over, as selfish as that was.

The servants wouldn't have to endure for much longer. Their faith in him was still strong, and their expectations were high. He wondered if their faith would last till their final days.

He was conflicted about the whole thing. He wanted to break the curse more than anything, but he didn't believe that he could, nor would he ever be given the opportunity to do so.

Part of him wanted it to be over... And part of him didn't. That part of him wished they had more time.

There was something very different about today. There was something in the air. It felt heavy, thick, but there was a buzz to it as well. He could sense it.

He hadn't gone down for breakfast or lunch. It's not that he wasn't hungry, he was the complete opposite in fact, he just didn't feel like eating. It was a regular occurrence that he didn't show up at the dinner table, his schedule was rather erratic. He did eat at least one meal, to avoid the possibility of killing another animal in his sleep due to hunger.

The servants would prepare him a meal and it was up to him to come down and eat it. They weren't short of food as the Enchantress had bestowed an endless supply upon them. She obviously didn't want him to starve.

He wasn't quick to count his blessings though.

After spending the entirety of the day in his room, he decided to head downstairs for dinner as the sun was starting to set. As always, the freshly made meal was waiting for him.

"Nice of you to join us. I was starting to think you weren't going to come down today." Mrs Potts said to him as soon as he sat down. She certainly liked to chat to him, although he couldn't imagine why. Nothing that came out of his mouth was interesting to listen to.

"I suppose I had to eat eventually." He muttered, turning away from her. He then proceeded to tuck into the food, focusing on a particular dish, which was a small, roasted chicken.

"There's a storm brewing outside." She informed him.

A storm? That must be the source of the buzz in the air. Most animals can detect a change in the weather, so it made sense that Beast was able to feel it.

Come to think of it, why did she even bring that up? Was she trying to make conversation? Because he didn't remember ever asking her to keep him posted on what the weather was like. Although, a shift in the weather was noteworthy to say the least.

"A storm will be a nice change of pace from the snow." He responded. "Then again, outside of the castle grounds and beyond the surrounding woods will probably receive rain, while we'll just get more snow and a lot of overcast." He grumbled, chomping on the chicken that had almost had its meat completely stripped off the bone.

"You never know, we might get some thunder and lightning." Mrs Potts replied. She then stared at him for a moment as he ate "Maybe it would be best if you didn't go out on the castle walkways tonight, just to be safe." She recommended.

"I'm not going to get struck by lightning if that's what you're worried about." He replied. "I'm not lucky enough for that to happen."

"Well, just be careful, alright?" She requested. "Something is on its way, I can feel it."

He raised an eyebrow at her "Yes... A storm is on its way." That was obvious, she even said it herself.

"No, something else... It's hard to put into words but... I just have a bad feeling."

He rolled his eyes and looked away. Was she spouting some superstitious nonsense? She didn't strike him as the type of person- well, teapot- to believe in bad omens. He doubted that the storm was a sign of what was to come. It was just a storm.

He stood up. It was time to take his leave.

"Going already?" Mrs Potts asked "You've hardly eaten. You haven't even drank anything."

Beast grunted and picked up his glass. He flung his head back and swigged the water, downing the full glass in a matter of seconds. He placed it back down on the table and gave Mrs Potts a look that said 'Are you satisfied now?'

"I'll try not to go outside during the storm, but I can't make any promises." He told her, before leaving abruptly.

Beast didn't keep Mrs Potts' wishes in mind. That same night, he could not sleep. He tossed and turned restlessly, but no matter what position he laid in he couldn't get any rest.

The storm was keeping him awake. It was on top of them now, they were in the thick of it. The wind howled, and there was a clap of thunder followed by a flash of lightning, that split the sky and illuminated his room.

Not only was it all of these things combined that was preventing him from going to sleep, the electrical storm was also rather... Energising.

Eventually, Beast gave up on his attempts to go to sleep and instead went out into the castle garden. He paced up and down, walking around hedge rows and flower patches, trying in vain to tire himself out. Nothing seemed to work. It became apparent to him that he was most likely going to be up all night.

But at least he could appreciate the storm. He was right, about there being more snow instead of rain. The clouds were dark, spilling and stretching across the sky, covering every inch of the black, starry curtain that he rarely got to see.

He didn't mind standing out in the storm. The powerful wind didn't bother him, despite its attempts to knock him off his feet, that had all been unsuccessful. Nor did the onslaught of heavy snow falling thick and fast bother him.

He wasn't always that way though. When he was a child, storms like this used to scare him. The loud rumble of thunder and crash of lightning would strike fear into his heart, causing him to tremble with fright and cower under the bed sheets. More often than not, he had run to his mother, and she would comfort him. He always felt safe in her arms, surrounded by her warmth.

When he was much older, he had come to admire storms. During the summer, there were often storms after days with extensive heat, and he would watch from the window as the rain poured down, while the wind battered against the window he was looking out of, as the thunder roared and lightning flashed.

He read in a book once that lightening can strike trees and cause them to catch fire, which can then lead to forest fires. He had never seen it with his own eyes though.

Storms are proof of the all powerful capabilities of mother nature.

It was breath-taking.

Beast continued to pace, staring down at his paws and occasionally glancing back to see how quickly his prints were being covered up by the extensive snow fall.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he heard the wolves from the forest howling. It was astounding that he could hear them over the wind.

It sounded like they were barking and growling too. Quite viciously in fact. He wondered what had got them so rallied up. Perhaps it was the storm, maybe they were in the same boat as he was. They were probably just as restless.

But then he heard the wolves' growling get increasingly louder. They were coming towards the castle. The wind was starting to die down, and he stood and listened, focusing on what sounded like the panicked neighing of a horse, followed by the screech of the castle gates opening.

His eyes widened when he caught sight of a horse galloping through the hedge rows. And the horse wasn't alone.

It had a rider.

Beast threw himself to the ground to avoid being spotted. He scurried over to one of the hedges and leaned against it as the horse went charging passed his location.

Beast's chest was heaving as he began to spiral into a panic stricken state. He hadn't seen a human in years. He had no idea how to approach one. He had wanted to avoid running into one. What did this person even want?

He was completely paralysed, unsure of what to do or think.

He heard the horse begin to slow down, and it's rider muttering to his steed. It sounded like a man, but he couldn't make out what exactly he was saying.

Could it be that one of the hunters had managed to track him down after all this time?

Or maybe it was a peasant that had seen the castle and had come to rob him of whatever valuables were inside.

There were so many possibilities to explain who this stranger could be. These ideas were swirling around in his head as he sat there, leaning against the bush, the branches sticking into his back, debating with himself.

He could confront this man, scare him away. Or he could wait for him to leave. Or, if this stranger tried to attack him... Then if push came to shove, he could kill him if necessary.

Beast managed to regain some movement after being paralysed for what felt like hours, when it had actually only been a couple of agonising minutes. He peaked over the hedge to see that the rider had left his horse beside the stables, while he was going up to the castle.

Beast glanced up at the West Wing, his bedroom being the only room illuminated by candle light. If that man went up there, looking for the owner of the castle and saw the rose... Then no good could come of that.

His brow furrowed. This was a matter of life or death. This man was now trespassing, and if this unwanted visitor tampered with the rose... Then their time would be up before it was intended to end.

A part of him may have wanted it to be over, but he didn't want some idiot who didn't know what he was doing to be the cause.

He knew what he had to do now. He had to stop the trespasser before he could do any serious damage.

Beast was no longer paralysed with fear. He knew exactly what he had to do, and was going to see it through to the bitter end. He got to his feet and ran towards the stairs leading up to front entrance.

But then he stopped. He glanced over at the horse and watched quietly as it munched on some hay. If it saw him, then he would end up startling it, and its cries might alert the stranger to his presence.

There had to be another way to confront him. Beast wanted to maintain the element of surprise, as the man may have some sort of weapon.

He glanced up at the castle again, at his room and the walkways. He had never tried this, but perhaps if he climbed one of the towers, he could reach one of the walkways and get back to his room. He could then approach the stranger from above.

It was the only plan he had. He decided to roll with it.

Beast weaved through the maze of hedges and made his way towards one of the towers. After several minutes of making good progress through the gardens, he saw the front entrance open through the corner of his eye, and whirled around, to see that the stranger was leaving, and rather hurriedly. Perhaps one of the servants had scared him away? Granted, a moving and talking object would scare anyone.

He lost sight of the stranger as he approached the stables. Beast needed a better vantage point to make sure that he did leave.

He hurried back towards the stables, and scaled the stone structure that surrounded the rose garden. He crouched beside one of the stone dogs and watched silently, hoping that the cover of darkness would make him appear to resemble a statue.

The man came riding back through the gardens at a steady trot, talking to his horse again.

But just when he thought the stranger was out of his hair, he stopped his horse outside of the rose garden.

Had he spotted Beast?

The man dismounted and tied his horse up to the nearest branch. No, he couldn't have seen him... If he had, then he would be startled. This man had his eyes set on something else.

The horse was shuffling in place, tugging at the reins. While the trespasser was none the wiser, his horse clearly knew something was wrong. It could sense him. The horse was squealing, shaking its head and neighing loudly. Its owner didn't heed its warnings.

Beast studied the trespasser as he drew nearer, moving through the rose garden. His mother's rose garden.

He was quite old. The wispy, thin grey and white hair on his head was enough of an indicator. The scruffy beard and wrinkles on his face added to that judgement.

Beast narrowed his eyes and moved swiftly across the stone structure, positioning himself just above the old man.

The trespasser took hold of one of the roses. One of his mother's roses. He cut himself on one of the thorns.

Beast snarled, a deep growl rumbling in the back of his throat. The old man was persistent, and continued with the pursuit of the flower, placing his fingers on the stalk and carefully avoiding the thorns. With a simple pluck, the rose had been taken.

He let out a roar, rising from his crouched position to his full height, casting a shadow over the old man. The trespasser looked up at him in pure horror. He stumbled backwards and fell onto his back.

The horse let out a cry, its reins snapping off the branch, allowing it to run away. But Beast didn't pay any attention to the fleeing horse, as he jumped down from the stone structure, landing heavily on the snow covered ground.

He stomped towards the old man, the snow crunching under his paws. Beast towered over the trespasser, who was cowering in fear. Beast leaned in and growled, baring his teeth at him.

"What are you doing here?!" He shouted directly into the old man's face.

"I-I-I-" the old man stuttered, unable to form a single word. He was probably surprised that Beast was able to speak.

Beast snatched the rose from him "Come to steal from me, have you?" He growled, tossing the rose aside "Did you see anything else in the castle that you might like to lay your grubby hands on?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't-" the old man began.

"You're sorry?!" Beast exclaimed, cutting him off "Sorry doesn't fix it!"

The Enchantress didn't listen to his attempts at an apology all those years ago, so why should he listen to this bumbling fool now?

He grabbed hold of the old man's shirt and lifted him off the ground. "Please don't hurt me!" He pleaded "You can have the rose, just please let me go!"

"Why would I let a thief like you go? You would just come back and bring your friends along with you so that you could steal from me again!"

"No, I wouldn't! I didn't come here to steal from you, I just wanted a place to stay that's all!"

"I'll give you a place to stay!" Beast shouted, throwing the old man to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. Beast grabbed him by the arm and dragged him back to the castle. The old man struggled, but his attempts to escape from Beast's grasp were futile.

He pulled him upstairs and threw him into the dungeon, slamming the cage door and locking him in. The old man scrambled to his feet and rushed to the cage door, grabbing hold of the bars. "Please, you have to let me go, I have a-" he began.

"I don't care!" Beast shouted, cutting him off once more. "I don't care if you have a wife or child or anything like that waiting for you back home. I don't care if you have some tragic story to explain why you stole from me. None of it justifies what you've done. And you are never, ever leaving this castle, you understand?"

"But-"

"ENOUGH!" Beast roared, scaring the old man and causing him to move away from the bars. Beast snarled and drew closer to the dungeon door. "You and I can rot here forever. If you live long enough that is." He muttered bitterly "Luckily for you, old age will catch up with you eventually. Let's hope your family doesn't miss you too much."

And with that, Beast turned away and walked down the tower steps. The old man shouted after him, begging him to let him go, before he went into a coughing fit. Beast decided to block him out.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he was greeted by Lumiere, Cogsworth, Mrs Potts, Chip and Plumette.

"Master, why did you lock that poor fellow away?" Lumiere asked.

Why were they always questioning him?

"He stole a rose from the garden." He responded.

The servants exchanged glances, the looks on their faces showing that they couldn't believe what they were hearing "But master, he only wanted shelter from the storm. We even made a meal for him-" Lumiere began to explain.

"A stranger turns up at our front door and the first thing you do is cater to him?!" Beast exclaimed

"He didn't seem like a threat!" Mrs Potts butted in.

"You should probably let him go. We have no right to keep him here. And besides, he seems sick... I think he might need a doctor." Lumiere commented.

'No right'? The moment that man set foot on the castle grounds, Beast believed he had a right to decide his fate.

Beast listened to the old man coughing violently. "He's faking it, so that I'll take pity on him and let him go." He dismissed them.

"You don't know that for certain." Lumiere replied "And with all due respect, master... It was just a rose."

Beast's anger boiled over "Just a rose?!" He yelled "Are you questioning my judgement?! What if he tried to steal more from us, what if he tried to steal one of you, or worse, the enchanted rose, the one thing that is keeping you all from turning into common household objects!"

The servants backed away, trembling with fright.

"Right, I'm sorry, master..." Lumiere apologised.

"So you should be." Beast responded scornfully.

"What would you like us to do with him?"

"Give him bread and water. That's the only thing a low-life like him deserves. And if he really is sick... Then so be it. I don't care what becomes of him, just make sure he remains in his cell." He ordered "I'll be in my room if you need me." He added, moving forwards. The servants hurried out of the way to make room for him as he walked up the stairs and headed back to the West Wing.

As soon as he entered his bedroom, he slammed the door behind him and headed over to the rose and placed his paw on the glass case. At least the old fool hadn't been able to get his hands on it.

Now he was being punished, just the same as Beast was. They were both prisoners, all because of a rose.

He wondered if there was anyone out there that would miss the old man. He doubted it.

At least now he wouldn't be completely alone after the last petal fell. There was someone else here that was suffering just as much as he was.

All because of one simple mistake, everything had changed.


	17. Chapter 16 - Better Late Than Never

**Chapter 16 - Better Late Than Never**

He didn't get a wink of sleep that same night. Not even a mere moments rest. Instead, he stayed awake, watching the storm pass. It caught him by off guard when he discovered that he wasn't all that tired after such a long night. He wasn't even slightly drowsy.

Dawn had arrived, and there was hardly any snow falling from the sky. There was only the sun, that had managed to break through the clouds, its rays making contact with the blanket of white covering the ground. It was surprising how calm it was after such a fierce storm. But he wasn't complaining. It was nice to have some sunshine every once and a while. It reminded him of summer.

Beast was currently listening to the old man coughing. The castle was quiet enough that he could hear him making a racket in the dungeon from the comfort of his room. It was the only sound that seemed to echo throughout the walls. His strong sense of hearing assisted him a great deal as well.

He had heard him talking for quite a while last night, begging to be let out of his cell, calling out to anyone that would listen. His pleas fell on deaf ears. Or at least ears with an owner that lacked any compassion.

He had also been rattling the cage door, which wasn't going to help him in the slightest, as that iron gate was completely solid, and shaking it wasn't going to magically make it come loose. The only thing it was doing was tiring him out. But if he wanted to fool himself into thinking it was helping somehow, Beast wasn't going to stop him.

Eventually, the old man had stopped, probably after he had realised that no one was coming to help him. It took him a frustratingly long time to figure that one out. Now he was just coughing, and occasionally muttering to himself. His words were hard to make out.

He certainly was dedicated to keeping up the facade of being sick, Beast had to give him that. It was almost admirable. Almost.

He was debating with himself as to whether or not he should go over and tell the old man to be quiet. He was really starting to annoy him.

He decided that he would stay in his room. He wanted nothing more to do with that thief.

Beast tried to block out the constant noise the old fool was making... But then, there was another sound that caught his attention, and he was suddenly on high alert. It was footsteps, clattering against stone... And it sounded like they were in a hurry.

It was coming from the tower... Where the old man was being kept.

Could it be that the servants had gone against him and set the old man free?

Beast furrowed his brow. Why did they never listen to him? He was supposed to be in control. Why didn't they follow his orders?

He stormed out of his room and onto the castle walkways. He planned to make his way to the tower nearest to the dungeon and jump across, in order to cut the prisoner off.

He ran across the snow covered walkway to the tower, entering through the doorway and hurrying down the stairs. He knew he'd be able to catch the thief, as he was much stronger and faster than that old man ever was.

As he moved down the spiralling staircase, he began to hear a voice. Wait, no- two voices. He stopped abruptly. There was someone else here.

Beast paused for a moment and listened. He could just about hear the old man whispering and then another voice replied. It almost sounded like... A girl.

Could it really be... No, it couldn't, he was hearing things. He shook his head and pressed on, moving down the stairs at a slow pace. It was evident that someone had come to rescue the old fool after all... He couldn't imagine why anyone would brave coming here just for that waste of space.

Beast reached a doorway which led to another stairway which was directly opposite the dungeon, with only a small gap in between. He remained where he was, and caught sight of a figure knelt down in front of the cage door. The old man was still inside... So the footsteps must have belonged to this other stranger.

A loud growl erupted from his throat, echoing throughout the dungeon and alerting the stranger to his presence. He had hoped to scare them off.

What they actually did shocked him. The stranger got up from their crouched position and picked up a stick, holding in firmly in their grasp. It would seem they had decided to take a stand.

The stick they had was probably going to be used as a weapon. Beast doubted that it would do him any harm, it would probably just break when smacked against his body.

He squinted, trying to get a better look at the stranger from where he was. The lack of torchlight on his side did not aid him in his efforts. As he managed to focus on them, he quickly came to realise that his mind hadn't been playing tricks on him earlier.

There was in fact a girl in the castle.

"Who's there?" Her feminine voice only confirmed his suspicions. "Who are you?" She called out.

"The master of this castle." He responded. "Who are you?" He threw her question back at her.

"I've come for my father!" She answered. "You have to let him go, can't you see he's sick?"

So she was his daughter? He didn't see much of a resemblance. From what he could make out anyway.

Beast began to stomp down the stairs, a loud thud following every footstep and his claws clattering against the stone. "Out of the question. He is my prisoner." He told her.

"Why are you keeping him locked up?" She asked.

"Because your father is a thief!" He retorted. He was approaching the part of the stairway that was directly across from the dungeon now, and was currently hidden behind a wall and completely out of sight.

He didn't want her to see him. The old man had already seen what he looked like, he couldn't bear for anyone else to. He was thankful that he had been provided with the cover of darkness.

"Liar!" She shouted.

"He stole a rose." He replied, peering round the corner.

He could see her much more clearer now that he was up close. She has long brown hair that neatly ran down her upper back. Her eyes were also brown, but not as dark as her hair. Those same chestnut brown eyes shimmered as she looked back at him, trying to make out his face. Her skin looked soft, smooth and slightly sun-kissed, and glowed in the torchlight. She had a brown cloak wrapped around her, and was adoring a white dress with a blue apron. Around her waist was a belt, in which hung some tools and a pouch to hold items. The hem of her dress was hitched up slightly to reveal a pair of bloomers, while on her feet were a couple of worn, muddy boots.

He'd never seen a girl quite like her before. She just looked... Ahead of her time.

"I asked for the rose, punish me not him." She pleaded.

"No, he means forever!" The old man interjected. The girl glanced over her shoulder to look at her father. "Apparently that's what happens around here when you pick a flower!" He shouted angrily. Still as clueless as ever.

She then turned back to Beast. "A life sentence for a rose?" She questioned, her voice thick with confusion and judgment.

Enraged, Beast roared and jumped across the gap, landing easily on his own two feet on the other side, joining her on the stairway. She leapt back in shock. She probably never would have expected him to do that.

"I received eternal damnation for one, why shouldn't he?" He retorted, moving towards her, taking it one slow and deliberate step at a time. "Besides, I would say he got off rather lightly. After all, I'm merely locking him away."

Beast stopped just before the cage door, as he didn't want to get any closer to her. "Now, do you still wish to take your father's place?" He asked.

The girl cocked her head and squinted at him. "Come into the light."

She undoubtedly wanted to see the face of her father's, and possibly soon to be her captor.

Beast turned away. He didn't feel obliged to give her that luxury. As he turned back to her, wanting to force her into making her choice, he found that she was closing the gap between them and holding a candle stick up to his face. The orange flames revealed his hideous appearance to her.

Her reaction was all he needed in order to confirm just how terrifying he truly was. The girl screamed and dropped the candle, reeling back in horror and covering her mouth to stifle her cry.

Beast glanced down at the candelabra on the floor, and quickly realised that it was Lumiere, pretending to be an inanimate object. How had she gotten her hands on him?

He picked Lumiere up and placed him on a nearby ledge, before turning back to the girl. He knew that she could see him fully now thanks to the candle light, and she was currently pressed up against the cage door, her father holding her hand through the bars.

"Are you going to choose or not?" He questioned. He was starting to lose his patience with her.

"Belle, I won't let you do this." Her father interrupting again.

Belle? That was her name?

The so-called Belle had her attention on her father, who was gripping her hand tightly. "I lost your mother, I won't lose you too. Now go." Just as the old man finished his sentence, he began coughing violently. His voice had sounded rather strained towards the end.

Maybe he really was sick...

"Looks like your father has made the decision for you." Beast commented. At least now it was over and done with, he could go back to his room and pretend none of this ever happened. She could escort herself out of here, and her father spend however many years he had left of his life without his daughter. It was a suitable punishment for the rose thief.

She was still reeling from the shock of meeting eyes with Beast, but she ignored him and addressed her father, placing her hand on his. "Alright papa, I'll leave." She told him softly. She then glanced back at Beast. "I'll need a minute alone with him."

Beast grunted and turned away, and began walking back upstairs. He didn't owe her anything. She needed to go, and she needed to go now.

"Are you so cold hearted you won't even let a daughter kiss her father goodbye?" She questioned. "Forever can spare a minute."

Beast froze. He... He never got to kiss his mother goodbye. This girl - Belle - she had lost her mother too. At least, so he gathered from the conversation she and her father briefly had. Could he really refuse to let her say goodbye to the one parent she had left? If he had been given the chance to say goodbye to his mother... Or even his father for that matter... He would have taken it. Who was he to deny her of that?

He slowly turned and walked back towards her. She looked fearful, worried about what he was planning to do.

He supposed that all of his intentions looked malicious judging by how he appeared and how she saw him. He cocked his head slightly and then pulled on the lever beside him, and the cage door swung open.

"When this door closes it will not open again." He warned.

She hurried inside the dungeon and embraced her father, wrapping her arms around him and then kissing him on the cheek. She looked like she never wanted to let him go.

Beast paced up and down as they talked, occasionally glancing inside the cage to make sure they weren't planning anything. He didn't listen in on their conversation, as he was too busy cursing himself for not standing his ground and ordering the girl to leave. Why did he bother to show her such kindness?

After what felt like a minute he paused on one side of the cage door "Your time is up. You must go now."

"I love you, papa. I'm not afraid." He heard Belle whisper.

All of a sudden, the old man was thrusted out of the cage and fell to the floor, whilst the door slammed shut. Beast quickly approached the cage door and then glanced over his shoulder at the man lying at his feet, and then back at the girl who was now on the other side of the locked door.

"You took his place." He commented. He was questioning her choice somewhat too. He just couldn't quite believe she would throw away her freedom for such a worthless, good for nothing man.

"He's my father."

Oh. So just because she was related to him she felt the need to give up everything for him?

Beast certainly wouldn't have done the same for his father, even though they were related by blood. He never gave him a reason to sacrifice anything for him.

"He's a fool. And so are you." He retorted, grabbing hold of the old man's arm and dragging him down the stairs.

"Belle..." He mumbled, dazed and confusion. He must have banged his head when he fell.

"Don't hurt him!" Belle begged.

Beast huffed as he picked the old man up and threw him over his shoulder with ease. As if he would do him any harm.

"I'll come back, I promise!" He shouted up to Belle.

Beast carried him outside and dumped him inside an old, forgotten carriage. "Please don't take my daughter, you can have me instead!" He pleaded.

"She's no longer any of your concern." Beast responded. "And if you try to come back here, you will both suffer the consequences!" He shouted, before slamming the carriage door.

"Take him to the outskirts of the village and leave him there. Make sure you don't get spotted." He ordered the carriage. His old method of transportation sprung to life, the wheels turned on their own without a horse or driver, and it moved down the path and towards the gate.

Beast watched it for a moment before going back inside. As soon as he shut the front door, he was greeted by Mrs Potts. "Master, is it true there's a girl in the castle?" She asked, her voice thick with excitement and her eyes full to the brim with joy.

Word seemed to spread like wildfire.

"How do you know about her?" He questioned.

"Cogsworth told me." She replied. "So it must be true then?"

"Yes." He responded. "But don't get any ideas! She's my prisoner, nothing more, nothing less. She'll get the exact treatment as the old man."

"But surely you must have thought about it-"

"No, I have not! And don't say another word about it." He ordered. "I know what you're trying to suggest and I don't want to hear it."

Mrs Potts was quiet, which was exactly what he wanted.

Beast exhaled deeply. "I'm going back to my room. I'll be coming down for dinner though. Make sure that the girl's needs are seen to."

"Yes, master." She replied.

As Beast walked back up the stairs, what Mrs Potts had been suggesting was running around in circles inside his head. Admittedly, the thought had crossed his mind when he had laid eyes on the girl. He couldn't help but wonder... Was this really the girl he had been waiting for all these years?

If Belle... This daughter of a thief truly was the person he had been hoping for... She had arrived too little too late.

* * *

 **A/N - Belle has arrived! Hooray! I'm trying to make a blend of the original 1991 version and the remake version to make a combination of the two. I liked the fact that she had a tool belt and a pouch for her books, or anything else she wants to carry. But I like her simple, white dress with a blue apron too. I also want to add onto the ideas the remake brought to Belle's character as well as staying true to the original.**

 **I've also been mixing up the dialogue a bit too. And I will keep doing that throughout the movie plot, unless I like a line of dialogue how it is, then I'll leave it. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, especially now that Belle is finally in the picture. This is only the beginning.**


	18. Chapter 17 - Dinner Invitation

**Chapter 17 - Dinner Invitation**

What a day it had been. Everything just seemed to move so fast. One minute he was keeping that old man prisoner, the next he had his daughter locked up instead. His life had gone from him simply trying to scrape by and get through each day to being a drama-filled mess. It had been completely turned upside down in an instant.

Everything felt so... Deranged. There was a sense of uncertainty and restlessness throughout the castle.

Beast was drained. He hadn't felt like this since the curse had been first placed upon him. Not only had he not had any sleep, but he also had to deal with the old man and that girl, and the punishment one of them had to face. He still found it hard to believe that she would give up everything for her father. It made him wonder just how strong of a bond and a connection they had.

Was that what a relationship between a father and their child was supposed to be like?

He wished he had got to experience something like that for himself.

But now he just wanted some time to himself. Just a few minutes of peace, where he didn't have to worry about the girl, or have the servants interrupt him - nothing like that. He just wanted to be alone with his thoughts. Was that too much to ask?

Although he found himself questioning why the moment a girl showed up at the castle, something he had been waiting for years to happen, he didn't want anything to do with her. This was his chance, why didn't he take it?

It mostly boiled down to the fact that he was tired and hungry. He hadn't had much time to think and consider his options yet after so much had happened.

He'd fix the hunger problem very soon, though, as he was heading downstairs for dinner. The food would be waiting for him at the table as always. And while he ate he would be able to think.

He entered the dining room and walked over to his chair, and then settled down to eat. But just as he was about to tuck in, he glanced at the opposite end of the table and noticed that there was another meal laid out.

The servants had prepared the girl a meal. They just couldn't help themselves, could they?

He clenched his fists, and in one fell swoop he knocked several plates and glasses off the table and they shattered on impact with the floor. "LUMIERE!" He shouted at the top of his lungs.

Beast stood up, and nearly wiped out the chair as he stormed out of the dining room and burst through the kitchen door. The servants were there, gathered on the centre table, looking slightly panicked by his outburst.

"You're making her dinner?" He questioned with a scowl.

Cogsworth pushed passed Lumiere, standing at the forefront of everyone "Master, I just want to assure you, I wanted no part in this hopeless drabble. Preparing her dinner, designing a gown for her, giving her a suite in the East Wing." He rattled on.

"You gave her a bedroom?!" Beast exclaimed. This just kept getting better and better. Didn't he specifically say that she would be treated no differently than the old man? Or did Mrs Potts just so happen to neglect telling them that information? She probably did tell them, and they just chose to ignore it. Did they not take his word seriously anymore?

"No, he gave her bedroom!" Cogsworth replied, pushing Lumiere forward whilst he cowered behind him.

"This is true, but if this girl is the one who could break the spell, maybe we could start by using dinner to charm her." He suggested.

Beast circled round the table, snarling when the stove lit up with roaring flames.

"Good thinking, Cogsworth." Lumiere added, giving the mantle clock a nudge.

"What?!" Cogsworth cried in alarm.

"That's the most ridiculous idea I've ever heard! Charm the prisoner..." He murmured in disbelief.

"But you must try, master. With every passing day we become less human." Lumiere pleaded.

Beast knew that more than anyone. He certainly didn't need telling. "She's the daughter of a common thief, what kind of person do you think that makes her?" He questioned.

"Oh you can't judge people by who their father is now, can you?" Mrs Potts responded scornfully.

Beast growled at that. He didn't really know what else to do or say. She definitely got him there, it had left him utterly speechless.

Still, he'd definitely have to have words with her about that later, for bringing up his father and his past and using it against him.

He sighed "Fine. I'll give it a try. But don't get your hopes up." He admitted defeat.

"Thank you, master. It's definitely worth a try, and could put us one step closer to breaking the curse." Lumiere stated.

"So what exactly do I do first?" Beast asked.

"Well, the best way to get her to eat dinner with you is to invite her." The candle stick answered. His tone of voice sounded like he was treating what he was saying as the most obvious thing in the world. Technically, it was, but not to Beast.

"Me? Why can't one of you invite her?" He objected.

"Because if one of us do it, then she will think you're not interested. She will think you want to talk to her through us, and not directly. Communication is one of the most important things to have in a relationship. You have to be forward, step up, take a stand, be a... Uh..."

Was he going to say man?

"I get it. Will you show me where she is?" Beast requested.

"Of course! I shall lead the way!" Lumiere declared, hoping off the table and hurrying out of the kitchen door. Beast, as well as Cogsworth, Plumette, Mrs Potts and Chip followed.

"Do you all have to come with me?" Beast questioned.

"We just want to accommodate you to make sure that nothing goes wrong. You can be rather... Headstrong." Cogsworth replied.

Beast growled and shot him an angry glare. "I wasn't trying to insult you!" He blurted fearfully.

"You're making the right decision, master. Just think, if this goes well, we might finally be able to break the curse. This girl is our chance!" Lumiere exclaimed excitedly.

"I already agreed to do this, you don't have to keep badgering me about it." Beast grumbled.

As he followed Lumiere up the stairs to the East Wing, he couldn't quite believe that he had agreed to this. He couldn't believe that he was taking advice from the servants either. He had to relearn how to woe a woman. His old routine wouldn't work, as he was assisted by his beauty a great deal back then, and even if he did, Belle didn't seem like the type of person to appreciate flattery.

"Sorry." Lumiere apologised for going on for too long. "Just focus on getting her to come out of her room and we'll sort out the rest." He advised. "Oh and she thinks that we gave you the room under your orders. I thought you should know, just in case she brings it up."

"Why did you tell her that?" Beast asked.

"It makes her think that you're generous and have her best interests in mind, so that you become more appealing to her." He explained.

"Have you been strategically planning this the moment she arrived?" Beast questioned.

"I wouldn't say we planned any of this, we've just been making it up as we go along." He replied.

"I see..." Beast murmured. It was smart thinking though. It was clear that the servants were trying to push him and Belle together in any way they could.

"Here we are!" Lumiere declared, unveiling the door that led to Belle's new living quarters.

Beast furrowed his brow "You gave her one of the best guest rooms we have?"

"Of course. Like I said, it proves that you care, that you want what's best for her."

"It proves that I'm soft! I'm supposed to be her captor, I shouldn't be so lenient." Beast protested.

"You won't earn her affection by talking like that. You need to be kind, caring, someone worth loving."

"I'm none of those things." Beast replied.

"Deep down you are." Lumiere told him. "Deep, deep down somewhere." He added.

Beast scowled again. "Thank you, you've filled me with so much confidence." He said sarcastically. He then turned his back on the servants and walked over to the door. He may as well get this over with.

He lifted his arm but paused before he could knock, and allowed it to drop to his side again. "This is stupid, I can't do it."

"Yes you can, master. You can't give up now when we haven't even begun." Lumiere encouraged him.

He sighed and lifted his arm again. He could feel the servants' eyes on him, each one staring at his back, watching his every move with bated breath.

Beast slammed his clenched paw against the door three times. "You will... Join me for dinner... And that's not a request!" He demanded, saying it with as much authority that he could muster.

"Gently master, the girl lost her father and her freedom in one day." Mrs Potts said.

"Yes, the poor thing is probably in there scared to death." Lumiere chimed in.

"Exactly." Mrs Potts agreed.

Beast huffed, hot air escaping from his nose and mouth as he lifted his arm for a third time and knocked on the door with extreme and exaggerated care, resulting in it barely making a sound.

"Just a minute." The girl called out.

"See, there she is. Now remember, be gentle." Lumiere advised.

"Kind." Mrs Potts added.

"Charming." Plumette also added.

"Sweet." Cogsworth chimed.

Beast glanced at each one of them, trying to take all of their words of advice on board. It had been so long since he had talked to a girl... He was very rusty.

"And when she opens the door, give her a dashing debonair smile. Come, come show me the smile." Lumiere encouraged him, smiling at him in order to give him something to work off.

Beast stared blankly at him for a moment before curling his lips back and giving the servants a large, toothy smile.

Their reaction wasn't too pleasing. They were all taken aback, and he heard Mrs Potts breathe "Oh my dear."

Beast's fake smile cracked and faltered, and he closed his mouth, hiding his hideous fangs with his lips. He then turned back to the door "It would give me great pleasure... If you would join me for dinner." He stated, although nothing about his tone of voice was convincing and he was saying it through gritted teeth. The corner of his lips turned up slightly as he did a quick smile, even though the girl, nor the servants could see it. His face went back to its resting frown immediately.

"Manners." Cogsworth whispered.

"Please." Beast mumbled.

"You keep my sick father locked away in a cold, dark dungeon, then you take me as your prisoner instead, and now you want to have dinner with me? Are you insane?" The girl responded coldly, her voice slightly muffled by the door.

Beast growled angrily, gritting his teeth together as he inhaled and exhaled sharply, his anger beginning to boil over. Why was she being so insufferable?! In a fit of rage, he punched the door, nearly putting a hole through it. Some of the wood and old paint chipped away and splintered off after his fist made contact. He then kicked it repeatedly, and the whole door shook. If he had attacked it anymore, he might have knocked it off its hinges.

"You come out of there right now or I'll- I'll- I'll break down the door!" He shouted, after he was done taking his aggression out on said door.

"No! I'm not doing anything you say!" She retorted.

"You can't stay in there forever!" He yelled.

"Yes I can!" She shouted back. "I'd rather starve before I ever ate with you!"

"Fine, be my guest! Go ahead and STARVE!" He roared.

He whirled around, noticing that the servants were all crowded fearfully in the corner, distancing themselves from him as much as physically possible.

He stomped towards Lumiere, getting merely inches away from his face "If she doesn't eat with me, then she doesn't eat at ALL!" He shouted, practically spitting on him, before turning and rushing down the hall. "Idiots!" He exclaimed as he stormed off. Why did he let them put him up to this? He was such an idiot himself.

He went back to his room and slammed the door behind him. The door frame shook violently. He needed to take his anger out on the nearest thing, so he lashed out with his paw and knocked over the tall candle stand beside the door. It was rather rash of him to do that, as something could catch fire. But in that moment, he didn't care, he didn't even think.

Beast stomped across the room and climbed the stairs, approaching the rose. He shot daggers at it with his glare, as he scooped up the enchanted mirror. He kept a watchful eye on the rose for a little longer, before he held it up the enchanted mirror, and caught a glimpse of his face. He tried to ignore it and avoid staring at his blue, human eyes. "Show me the girl." He requested.

The surface of the mirror rippled, and the image of his face faded and was replaced by an image of the girl.

Belle was sitting on the floor beside the door, her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. She looked scared, so vulnerable, so fragile... Was this really the girl that stood up to him? Who never missed a beat and constantly argued back?

Was this what he had done to her?

His hardened expression softened as he watched as she buried her face into the skirt of her dress. His anger melted away, and all that was left was the feeling of remorse. Why did he always let his rage get the better of him? Why was he filled with so much hate? Why did he take it out on everyone around him?

Looking at her now, he realised that... Deep down, behind her brave, strong facade, she was afraid, of what was going to happen to her. Just like him.

The image faded, and he saw his reflection once more. Seeing it now... He had become numb to it at this point. Which was equally as horrifying as his appearance. That would be the same face that looked back at him in any reflective surface for the rest of his life... And it was the face that he had come to associate with himself.

He lowered the mirror and stared sorrowfully at the rose. He drew closer, resting his paw on the pedestal, and watched helplessly as a petal slowly peeled away and gently floated down to the base of the stalk. As soon as it landed on top of the other petals, it became blackened and withered.

Beast's heart dropped, and he could feel a sob caught in his throat. He swallowed hard, and looked down at the floor, his brow becoming knitted with sorrow as the castle rumbled and he heard the sound of falling debris.

For a moment... Just a moment... The servants had convinced him... He had convinced himself that there was a chance that he could break the curse.

For a moment... He actually had hope. A small, tiny, glimmer of hope. But like a burning flame it had been... Snuffed out, quicker that it had been ignited.

* * *

 **A/N - The writing process has been completed. I'll start posting more regularly, perhaps Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Does that sound good to you guys? Or would you rather it stay how it is so you don't get left behind and have to catch up?**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The dinner invitation scene is pretty funny, and I liked writing it, until it got to the sad part where Beast looks at Belle in the mirror. Next chapter is a new plot line that I've written to add on to ideas presented in the movie. There's quite a few chapters coming up later that are like that. I look forward to sharing them with you all.**


	19. Chapter 18 - A War of Words

**Chapter 18 - A War of Words**

The rose was in a sorry state. Not only had it nearly been reduced of all its petals, but the stalk was starting to sag and flop over.

It reminded him of himself in a way. How had his life gotten to the point where he found a flower relatable?

But it wasn't just wilting. It was dying.

Beast had been watching it for a while after it had lost another petal. He was sitting on the edge of the balcony, in the collapsed portion of the wall, staring blankly at the glass case that contained the flower.

There were eight left. He counted. He was trying to figure out how much time that left him with. A week? A few days? It was impossible to predict.

He leaned to the right and rested his head against the cold, stone wall. If he could even bring himself to try again with Belle, would he have enough time to turn it around? With such a rocky start, and the fact that he had no motivation to give it another attempt, it would seem that this was the end of the line.

The door to his room creaked open and he took his eyes off the rose to look in that direction, only to see Lumiere peak his head round the door. "Have you calmed down, master?" He asked cautiously.

Beast lifted his head off the wall "What do you think?" He responded gruffly.

"... I'll take that as a yes, since you didn't yell at me and tell me to go away." Lumiere replied, walking into the room, with Cogsworth hobbling in behind him.

Beast crossed his arms and stared at the two of them "What do you want now? Have you come to get me to do another one of your stupid ideas?" He questioned.

"Well, yes... But I wouldn't call it a stupid idea." Lumiere stated. "We were thinking-" He began.

"I'm not interested." Beast interrupted. "It's hopeless... The only thing she'll ever see me as is a monster." He murmured sadly, lowering his head.

"You don't exactly do yourself any favours." Cogsworth muttered.

"What was that?" Beast snarled, raising his head quickly and flashing him an angry glare. There was a burning fury lurking behind his eyes.

"Nothing, nothing!" Cogsworth replied fearfully, ducking behind Lumiere.

He heard him the first time, he just wanted Cogsworth to say it again to his face. But he was evidently too afraid to do that. He wasn't very brave when confronted. He decided not to rip into him, though. He didn't feel like he would be able to explode with anger again.

"Will you at least let me make a suggestion?" Lumiere requested, ignoring his quivering companion.

"Does it really matter wherever I agree or not? You'll just talk at me anyway." He grumbled. That was his backwards way of giving him permission to go ahead with whatever he wanted to say.

Lumiere opened his mouth but didn't say anything for a few seconds. It would seem that the cogs were whirling in his head as he was trying to figure out what exactly Beast meant. And here he thought that cogs turning was exclusive to Cogsworth.

After hesitating, with his mouth gaping open, Lumiere began to speak "We were thinking that you could maybe try apologising to her." He suggested.

"Apologise? But she was the one that was being so difficult! She should be the one to apologise!" Beast argued. The only reason he got angry was because she talked back to him and refused all of his advancements.

That was probably Lumiere's other reason for hesitating, because he knew that Beast wouldn't like his idea.

"With all due respect, master, she is being kept her against her will." The candle stick replied. "But perhaps if you take the lead and apologise for your actions first, it might encourage her to apologise too, and then you two could find some common ground to fall back on."

"It also shows her that you regret it." Cogsworth added.

Admittedly she was being held prisoner, he couldn't exactly expect her to go along with everything he said. He just thought that she'd listen to him a little more than she had, and not talk back so much.

Maybe it was worth another shot. If saying sorry put him a step closer to breaking the curse... Then he would do it. "Alright, fine, I'll... _Apologise_... But I'm not going to mean it."

"You don't have to mean it, just at least try to sound genuine." Lumiere advised.

"And at the very least pretend to be a gentleman." Cogsworth chimed in.

Beast stood up and walked passed the two servants. He heard them following him as he left the room and headed over to Belle's living quarters. They most likely wanted to keep a watchful eye on him, and make sure that he did everything right the second time round. They were probably going to whisper tips in his ear that they thought might be helpful.

Beast stood outside of Belle's room and knocked on the door.

"Remember, you need to sound like you mean it." Lumiere whispered.

"I know that." Beast hissed under his breath. "I've got this alright, stop distracting me."

He then turned to the door. "Hello... It's me... Again." He greeted. He rested his paw on the door frame and leaned in closer, so that his voice would sound less muffled on the other side "Listen, I think we got off on the wrong foot earlier." He began "We both said some things that we didn't mean and... Well, I came to apologise." He continued.

Silence. Was she not acknowledging him, but listening anyway, or was she ignoring him completely?

"I was just angry... Obviously I don't want you to starve... You don't have to eat with me if you don't want to, you're not obliged to do that..." He paused for a moment and glanced at Lumiere and Cogsworth, who just urged him with a slight gesture to carry on. "I'm sorry." He said.

Out of everything he had been saying during his apology, which had mostly sounded like a spoilt child being forced to say sorry to someone when they believed they were in the right, the last thing he said to her... He was genuine, both in tone, and his actual feelings. He was truly sorry.

"If there is anything you want me to do for you, anything at all... Just name it. I want to do something together." He told her.

No response.

Beast furrowed his brow. "Well at least say something! If you want me to go away, then just tell me to! It's not like I wanted to come all the way down here."

Not all of that was true. He just wanted to act tough, and avoid revealing his sensitive side. He didn't want her to know that he was vulnerable.

"Master, don't say that! You were doing so well." Lumiere told him.

"She's being rude! I'm trying my best to make this work and she won't even speak to me." Beast retorted.

He paused, and pressed his ear against the door. He couldn't hear any movement going on inside. The only thing he could hear was... The wind.

Wait, what?

"Something isn't quite right." Beast murmured, grabbing hold of the door handle.

"Master, you can't go in there, it's an invasion of privacy." Lumiere interrupted him.

"It's my castle, I can go anywhere I want!" He exclaimed. He twisted the handle, and the door creaked open. She didn't lock it?! So he could have just gone in there earlier and forced her to come down for dinner?

He let go of the handle and pushed the door, allowing it to swing open. As it opened fully, revealing the room to him, he quickly realised the girl was no longer there. There wasn't a single trace of her left behind... Except for the rope fashioned out of pieces of fabric tied to the bed frame and hanging out of the window.

Beast rushed over to the window and looked down. He caught sight of the girl almost immediately, as she wasn't easy to miss. She was halfway down the rope, making her descent towards one of the castle walkways. If she made it, then she'd be able to make a quick getaway, as there was an easy route to the stables down there.

He clenched his fists and growled, spinning around and storming over to Lumiere and Cogsworth "Who's idea was it to give her a room with a window that she could open and climb out of?!" He shouted.

"We thought she would appreciate the view." Lumiere replied, his voice hitching as he nervously spoke.

Appreciate the view...? Was he the only one with a brain around here?! "This is why she should have stayed in the dungeon!"

The wardrobe, or rather, Madame Garderobe, who was snoring loudly, caught his attention. He stomped over to her. "WAKE UP!" He shouted.

She woke up with a start "Ah! Oh... Master... How nice of you to visit. What brings you here?" She asked innocently. She didn't have a clue what was going on.

"Why didn't you tell anyone that she was trying to escape?!" He yelled.

"Who? ...Oh, the girl. When did she escape?" She questioned drowsily. She was on the verge of nodding off, despite the fact that he was screaming in her face.

"This is pointless! I'm just wasting time!" He exclaimed. "We're not done here." He warned the wardrobe, as well as the trembling candle stick and mantle clock. "I'm going after her!" He then declared, running out of the room.

"Master, wait!" Lumiere called after him, even though there was no way of stopping him. "Don't do anything rash!"

It didn't take long to find her. He knew the castle like the back of his hand- paw- but the girl was new to it all. Plus, she had only just made it to the bottom of the rope when he arrived, as he was a much faster runner than she was at climbing. Just as she was running towards a nearby tower, he came down the stairs and stood in the doorway, stretching out his arms to touch both sides on the wall and blocking her path.

Her eyes widened in alarm when she saw him, and she stopped dead in her tracks. She then glanced behind her and then looked down and off to the side of the walkway. Was she looking for an alternative route to escape, considering jumping off?

She wouldn't survive the fall if she did jump.

"Going somewhere?" Beast asked, cocking his head and narrowing his eyes at her. "I was under the impression that you wanted to stay in your room."

"The servants said I could go anywhere I want. I came out for a late night stroll to get some fresh air." She replied calmly.

"I might have been inclined to believe that... But normally, people leave through a door, instead of climbing out of a window using a rope." He responded.

Belle groaned, a look of anguish on her face.

"That was smart thinking, you really showed intuitive and resourcefulness by using what you had to your advantage." He commented, although his voice was monotone.

"...Are you complimenting me?" She questioned.

"If you want to think of it as one." He replied. "You should have made the rope longer though, if you wanted a real chance at escaping."

"I ran out of dress fabric." She muttered.

He leaned closer to her, and she backed off slightly, as he was uncomfortably close. He was just doing it to intimidate her. "Now, I'll give you two choices. I can drag you back to the dungeon where you belong kicking and screaming, or I can escort you back to your room willingly. Which will it be?" He asked. "And you better decide quickly this time because I'm not in a mood to wait." He growled.

She sighed "I'll go back to my room." She said, defeated.

"Good choice." He replied. "Let's go. You have to go in front me."

She nodded silently and walked in front of him. He directed her back to her room, as she didn't know which route to take.

Once they arrived back, Beast entered the room along with her and slammed the door shut. Belle positioned herself by the wall, as far away from him as possible as he walked over to the rope, and then approached her. "You are really trying my patience. I am very close to hauling you back to the dungeon."

"Then why don't you just do it?!" She cried. "It doesn't matter where I am, in a cold, dank cell, or in this room with fancy decorations and fancy dresses, I'm still a prisoner! ...I'm still trapped here." She murmured.

For a moment, he gave her a look of sympathy, but quickly hid it. "Yes, you are a prisoner. But I don't think you've fully accepted that yet. You took your father's place, you have to take his punishment, you have to live out his sentence! But instead you're trying to escape!"

"Can you blame me? I would accept the punishment if it were something worse, but it was just a rose! He didn't mean any harm by it! He was getting it for me!" She argued back. "Why did you want to punish him just for that?"

"Because I suffered the same fate, all because of a rose!" He shouted.

"Are you sure it's just because of a rose?" She questioned.

"What?" He growled.

"No one would be so cruel to punish you just because of a rose. You're just blaming it on the flower so that you feel better about yourself, about whatever you did. You were keeping my father prison because you didn't want to suffer alone, even though what he did is nothing compared to what you've done. You're just too wrapped up in your own head to see that it's your fault, you don't want to keep blaming yourself, you-"

"ENOUGH!" He roared angrily.

Belle fell silent, a hint of fear in her eyes.

"Who do you think you are? You have no right to say any of that. You know nothing about me." He said lowly.

Beast looked away for a moment. Her words seemed to ring true, but he tried to push them away and ignore them as best he could as they flew around inside his head. "I'll give you a second chance. You can stay in this room. But I don't want you leaving it, do you understand me?"

She didn't respond.

"I said, do you understand me?" He repeated himself.

"Yes." She replied.

He walked over to the rope and cut it with one swipe of his claws. The torn fabric was weighed down by gravity and slipped out of the window. "If you try to escape again, you won't get very far. I'll find you, and next time there will be no more chances. You'll go straight back to the dungeon." He warned. He then closed the window and set down the latch.

He walked over to the bed and stripped off the sheets. "You can't have any bed sheets, as you could make more rope out of it. So I hope you enjoy sleeping in this cold weather without them. Hopefully your dress will be enough to keep you warm." He murmured, his voice dry and lacking any emotion.

"Speaking of dresses." He muttered, approaching Madame Garderobe "They'll be no more playing dress up either!" He said loudly, startling her awake once more. "Keep an eye on her." He ordered.

"Yes, of course, master." The wardrobe responded sleepily.

Beast walked over to the door and paused, glancing back at the girl. "I kept up my end of the bargain. I let your father go. Now you have to do the same." He told her. "Don't betray my trust again."

He took hold of the door handle and opened the bedroom door, before heading out into the hallway and closing it behind him.

Lumiere and Cogsworth were there waiting for him. "You weren't too hard on her, were you master?" Lumiere asked concernedly.

Beast glanced back at the door "I... Was gentle as I could be." He replied.

"We could still give it another go, you know." Lumiere said quietly.

"Would you just give it a rest already? This isn't going to work. She'll do anything to get away from me, do you honestly think there's any coming back from this?"

The two servants were silent.

"Make sure that wardrobe keeps an eye on her and doesn't fall asleep again. And I want one of you out here at all times. I don't care who, you can take it in shifts if you like. Just make sure that it's done." He instructed. "I'm going back to my room. I don't want to be bothered again tonight."

He walked passed them, but paused when he heard sobbing. The girl... She must have realised that there was no way out, that she was stuck here. That she would never see her father again.

Beast's expression saddened as he listened to her cry, her wails echoing through the wall.

He knew how she felt. He was in the comfort of his home, surrounded by his servants... But he didn't feel any less trapped. He could go back and attempt to comfort her... But he was the last person she wanted to see.

He kept walking, her cries becoming distant to his ears, but lingering in his mind.

* * *

 **A/N - I'll be posting every two days now, as I've edited every chapter and they're all just sitting around, waiting to be posted. So the days will alternate, from today to Sunday, then Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, then Monday, Wednesday and so on and so forth.**

 **I thought it was odd that in the remake, Belle made this rope out of dress fabric, but she never actually used it, and Beast never discovered that she made it. So I decided to go more in depth with it. Plus, I felt that she needed to have a low point as well, where she feels helpless, like she does in the original. And I also thought that she needed to see that, in a way, with Beast making their argument and the rose so personal, that he's crying out for help, even if he doesn't realise it himself.**

 **Also thank you, for the support and kind words in the reviews throughout this whole story. I greatly appreciate it.**


	20. Chapter 19 - Double Rescue

**Chapter 19 - Double Rescue**

It was a calm night. It was snowing lightly, but there were hardly any clouds and for once, Beast could actually see the starry sky. This was a rare occurrence, so he seized the opportunity to gaze up at them with both paws.

The bright, glowing orbs surrounded by the black void were truly a sight to behold. He hardly ever got to appreciate just how mesmerising the stars were. He had never been one for stargazing in the past, as he thought he had better things to do, but every once in a while he would take the time to look up, to see if he could spot one. He had plenty of time to do it.

He was currently sitting on the roof that sheltered the balcony. He had climbed up and found himself a ledge to perch on. He had his head titled back, so that the only thing that filled his vision was the millions upon millions of stars that twinkled in the darkness.

Normally he would just sit on the castle walkways, along with the gargoyles, as climbing onto the roof took quite a bit of effort. But he wasn't in the mood to be bothered tonight, and the servants knew that he would often come out here, so they could easily find him. But up on the roof, he was completely out of sight. They wouldn't be able to find him up there, as they wouldn't look very hard unless it was urgent. He was truly and completely isolated.

The carriage that had returned Belle's father to the village had come back. He could see it from where he was. He was fairly certain that it had been brought to life by the Enchantress' magic, and hadn't originally been a servant. But he could be wrong. It was hard to tell what was a servant and what was an enchanted object. He had been guessing for a while that everything that had something that resembled a face had once been a servant.

He had been thinking about what the girl - Belle - had said to him, about the rose, and her father's punishment, as well as his own, and how they weren't the same. And because of her... He was starting to question his motives and judgement. He had tried to tell himself to not let her words cause him to doubt himself... But deep down he knew she was right.

Beast had tried to convince himself that the curse on him was all down to the rose, and the fact that he had refused it when it had been offered to him as a gift. He told himself time and time again that everything before that - how he had acted, what he had done, how he had ruined the lives of so many people, held beauty above all else, was so cruel and unkind - all of that had nothing to do it with. When in actuality, it had everything to do with it and more.

And he knew. Of course he knew. He just didn't want to believe it.

The Enchantress must have been watching him. She was an all powerful being, he knew from experience, she could change her form into almost anything. She had to have been there all along, in plain sight. And the rose, it was a test, so that she could see just how cruel he truly was face to face, instead of being just an onlooker. And she saw him for everything he was. She saw right through him and the beauty that he hid behind. And she punished him for it.

The rose wasn't the cause, it had nothing to do with it. It was just the final straw in a long, long line of awful, unforgivable choices he had made.

He had only come to blame it because... After blaming himself for so long, he needed something, anything, to direct all of his hate and loathing towards. And where else could he look for something to blame, to despise, except for the one thing he woke up to every morning, the one thing that reminded him of the time slipping away. The flower that essentially started it all. That he had held briefly in his hand and then cast aside like it was nothing. That had been pointed at him as he transformed.

The rose was burned into his mind. For a while, it only seemed fair to unload all of his hatred and burden it on what he thought was the source of all of his issues. And then, when Belle's father came along, and stole from his mother's rose garden, it only seemed fair to punish him the same way he had been punished. A life sentence for a rose.

But while one was just an old man trying to get a rose for his daughter, the other was a Prince, who did not care for anyone but himself, who couldn't see passed his selfishness and looked upon the world through a filter, where only beauty seemed to matter. That same Prince did many hurtful things, took money from poor townspeople, bled them dry. Not allowing an old woman to stay in his castle for one night was the cherry on top.

Out of these two, who really deserved the punishment they were given?

Perhaps a life sentence was too harsh. But the old man was still a thief, and stole from one of the only reminders of his mother. There was no excuse for that. He wouldn't back down on the punishment he had given. What's done is done.

But in the end, all he wanted was to feel a little less guilty.

Now he just felt even more guilty than ever before, after allowing Belle's words to sink in. How was she able to read him so well? He thought that no one could understand what was going on inside his head.

He couldn't go back to blaming himself again. The amount of guilt that weighed down upon him was enough to suffocate him. He was drowning in it.

Beast decided that he wouldn't think about it anymore. Well, not thinking about it is easier said than done, but he would do his best to take his mind off it for as long as he could.

There was music coming from downstairs. If he had to pin point the exact location, he would say it was coming from the dining room. He could also hear the servants singing. He couldn't make out the lyrics though.

It had been going on for a few minutes now. He wasn't sure why they were playing music, and frankly he'd rather not have to listen to it. He would go down and tell them to be quiet but he was content with staying where he was. He didn't feel like leaving his room again, at least not tonight. He'd just try to block it out.

He supposed that they had something to celebrate and be happy about. After all, a girl had finally shown up at the castle. Yes, she hated his guts, but at least they were making some progress. If they wanted to keep their spirits lifted with a little sing-song then so be it.

The music was starting to die now, and just when he was starting to tolerate it. They were probably calling it a night. It would be time for him to turn in soon too.

It occurred to him that he hadn't slept for two nights, nor had he eaten since last night. He'd have to make sure to eat something as soon as he woke up tomorrow, because right now he was running on nothing.

Maybe he'd stay here, on the roof, and sleep. It didn't really matter where he slept, as he didn't have any trouble when it came to getting comfortable. All he'd have to do was lean back and close his eyes, and eventually he would slip into unconsciousness. And sleeping under the stars was a rather comforting thought.

Just as he was considering calling it a night, he heard someone coming up the stairs. And moments later, he heard the door to his room open.

Beast sat up straight and listened in on the visitor. Was it one of the servants? It had to be. Hopefully they would go away eventually.

He relaxed a little, but kept his ears tuned in on the servant that was moving around down there. But as he continued to listen to the stranger walking around, he came to realise that those were definitely footsteps. Last time he checked, none of the servants had feet. And those were shoes clattering against the stone floor.

It had to be the girl... But what was she doing here in his private quarters?

He peered over the edge of the ledge, leaning as far as he could so that he could look into the room, although everything was upside down from his angle.

His suspicions were confirmed when his eyes landed on Belle, who was standing beside the stone pedestal. His eyes widened in horror when he saw that she had removed the glass case that covered the rose, and was reaching out to touch it. Who knows what kind of damage she could do by merely touching it?!

He sprung into action. He leapt down from the ledge, landing on heavily on all fours and causing a loud thud to echo through the room. He pushed himself up onto two legs and charged over to the pedestal. Belle had retreated from the rose the moment he had arrived, allowing him to grab the glass case and cover the flower once more. He shielded it with his arms for a few seconds, briefly checking it over, before turning his head towards her. He could feel his anger beginning to surface as he approached her, towering over her. She was at his complete mercy.

She looked terrified.

"What are you doing here?! What did you do to it?!" Beast shouted angrily.

"N-nothing." She stuttered, her voice trembling.

Like father, like daughter. Had she come to steal it?

"Do you realise what you could have done, you could have damned us all!" He exclaimed, drawing nearer, casting a shadow over her, as she seemed to shrink from the sheer intimidation. In reality, she was just backing down the stairs, distancing herself from him, making him even taller than her than he already was in comparison. She wasn't going to stand her ground. Not this time. Before, there had been a door between them, giving her a sense of security. Before, in her room, he hadn't been as angry. But now she was at the brunt end of his rage, feeling the full force of it, and all of her confidence and bravery had crumbled.

"I'm sorry." She apologised.

"You shouldn't have come here! You should have stayed in your room!" He yelled.

"I didn't mean any harm, I-" she began.

"Get out of here!" He screamed in her face, cutting her off.

She didn't move. Was she paralysed with fear?

"GET OUT!" He roared, raising his paw and lashing out at her. For a brief second, his vision was clouded by a red haze. When it cleared, he saw Belle, her arm held up to shield herself. There were claw marks raked down her sleeve.

Had he... Had he hurt her?

Belle glanced at the ripped fabric, and then at him. They shared a glance, as he breathed heavily, his whole body shaking from rage. The brown orbs that stared back at him were filled with terror.

And then she was gone. As quick as a flash, she turned and sprinted out of the room. He had never seen anyone run so fast... It was like the devil himself was on her tail.

Beast glanced down at his paw, noticing that his claws were still at the ready, in a position to strike. He lifted his arm, and let out a strangled gasp as he stared at his claws, and the thought of them tearing through Belle's flesh flashed through his mind. There was no blood on them, but that didn't mean he didn't break the skin. He didn't see any blood on her arm, but that didn't prove anything. That didn't mean he didn't harm her.

He lowered his arm, forcing his stiff fingers to close into a fist. He glanced at the rose and then at the door, and then back at the rose once again. It seemed fine... All the petals were still there. Maybe she hadn't meant any thing by it... Maybe she was just too curious for her own good. No damage had been done.

He lifted his paws and clutched the fur on top of his head in frustration. He gripped his fur so tightly, he nearly ripped it out. He had attacked her... For nothing. He didn't mean to- he would never- he didn't want to hurt her.

What was wrong with him?!

Beast let go of his fur and looked over at the door. He had to go after her. He needed to see her, to make sure she was alright.

He ran out of the room and hurried downstairs. He thought that she might have ran back to her room and locked herself in, but he stopped dead in his tracks on the way over when he saw the small, dog door open, allowing snow to blow in. The servants were gathered by the front entrance, looking frantic.

"What's going on?" He asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

Lumiere spun around to face him. "The girl, she ran away! We tried to stop her, but there was nothing we could do." He responded.

When he had said get out, this wasn't what he meant. The woods were dangerous, he knew from first-hand experience, when he came face to face with the wolf pack. She could die out there.

He couldn't let that happen.

"I'm going after her!" He declared, not even taking a moment to think, but acting on sheer impulse alone, dashing down the stairs and out the front door.

"Master, wait!" The servants called after him.

He didn't stop.

He didn't have time to think and consider his options. He just had to go.

"Please be careful!" He heard them shout after him as he ran into the gardens.

Beast went down on all fours and charged towards the iron gate. It was already open, so he didn't have to wait for it and waste precious time.

He could see her horse's tracks in the snow, and smell her scent. He was on the right trail, and was positive that he would be able to catch up to her.

The adrenaline was pulsing through his veins as he broke through the trees, bitter cold snow blowing in his eyes and causing them to sting. But he pressed on, going as fast as he possibly could, ducking under branches and weaving through the trees. His heart was pounding in his chest as ran, going faster and faster, sniffing the air, following her scent, as the hoof prints in the snow.

He looked down for a moment as he kept running, and noticed that the horse tracks weren't the only things left behind in the snow. There were paw prints as well.

The smell of wolves was suddenly overpowering. It overwhelmed his senses, stopping him from tracing Belle. But if the wolves had been chasing her, then they would lead him right to her.

A wolf howl erupted from deeper in the woods. He froze, breathing heavily, his muscles throbbing. The wolves, he... He wasn't sure if he could face them again... He barely got away the last time he ran into them. Beast's blood ran cold when he heard the squeals of a startled horse, followed by Belle's cries. She was in trouble! He had to save her!

He couldn't stand there and do nothing!

He set off again, pushing himself to the very limit, running like he had never run before. Her life was on the line, he wouldn't run the risk of losing her.

He reached a frozen lake, and laid eyes on her once more. Her horse was frantically twisting and turning, trying to get away from the wolves but remaining by its owner's side, while she fought back against one of the wolves, using nothing but a tree branch.

The wolf bit down on the tree branch with its razor sharp fangs and tugged on it, ripping it from her hand, but pulling her down in the process. Belle collapsed onto the ice, and cried out in alarm when another wolf grabbed hold of her cloak with its teeth, shaking its head violently as it tried to drag her across the ice.

Beast growled and narrowed his eyes as one of the wolves charged towards Belle, pouncing at her and going in for the kill. But at the last second, Beast launched himself at the wolf and tackled it to the ground, before throwing it across the ice. The wolf yelped in surprise as it skidded across the frozen water.

He ran over to Belle, and stood over her, pressing himself against her but with not enough force to crush her. He was shielding her with his own body, protecting her from any attack, but also showing the wolves that she belonged to him, that she was his kill, not there's. At least, that's what he wanted them to believe from his body language. If they didn't believe his ruse, then at least if they attempted to maul Belle to death, they'd have to go through him, which would buy her enough time to get away. He'd make that sacrifice if need be.

He growled fiercely, baring his teeth at the wolf pack. The wolves drew closer, baring their own teeth, their hackles raised, claws at the ready, saliva dripping from their mouths.

Beast charged headlong towards them, and they all attacked at once, pouncing on top of him. The wolves wrestled him to the ground, biting at his legs, and his arms, clawing at his chest and back, shredding his tattered cloak. The adrenaline rush was helping the wolf bites feel a little less painful.

He snarled, rolling over and knocking the wind out of one using his full body weight, whilst throwing the others off, lashing out with his claws, scratching them and drawing blood. As he tried to get back to his feet, another wolf pounced onto his back from behind, knocking him onto the ground once more and sinking its teeth into his shoulder. Beast cried out, roaring in pain as the wolf attempted to tear a chunk of his flesh off.

He grabbed hold of the wolf by the scruff of its neck and threw it against a tree. The wolf hit it with full force, but still managed to get back up, despite quite a struggle.

His eyes landed on the scar running across the wolf's eyelid. He quickly realised that it was the same wolf that he had fought back against several years ago. The leader of the pack. And it seemed like he still had some fight left in him.

It didn't faze him.

Seething was unbridled rage, his blood boiling, Beast went down on all fours once more and let out loud, mighty, heaven-splitting roar.

The wolf whined and backed down, realising that this was a fight it could not win. It turned and fled, and the rest of the pack followed close behind.

Beast pushed himself off the ground, standing on his two back paws. It was harder to rise this time, as the adrenaline was beginning to fade. It was being replaced by a burning sensation in his overworked muscles, and the multiple injuries he had sustained. He certainly hasn't come out of the fight unscathed, but at least he was alive. He glanced down at the bites and scratches that littered his body, blood oozing from the wounds and staining his fur.

Belle, was she alright? Breathing heavily, he glanced over his shoulder and saw her standing beside her horse, staring at him.

Thank goodness... He managed to save her. After everything he had done to her... He had finally done something right. A smile almost appeared on his lips, but he was too drowsy to follow through.

He stared back at her, but she quickly became a fuzzy, blob as his vision began to blur, and the pain grew stronger. He suddenly felt light headed, and lost all feeling in his legs. He swayed, his legs trembling under his body weight as he could no longer stand, and collapsed onto a patch of snow.

His eyelids grew heavy, and he blinked sluggishly as he tried to fight the urge to go to sleep, even though exhaustion and blood loss was starting to take hold.

He lie there for a moment, curled up in the snow, his wounds stinging and sending surges of pain through every nerve. He kicked his legs, and rocked back and forth on the ground as he cradled himself.

He heard the crunching of snow, and something warm was draped over him. He turned his head ever so slightly, as even that was an ordeal, to see Belle leaning over him, her hand placed on his shoulder. She had covered him with her cloak. His own was beyond repair. That was so... Kind of her.

"You have to help me." She whispered softly.

Help her? Didn't she see what he had just done for her? There wasn't much more he could do. He could barely keep his eyes open.

"I can't get you back to the castle on my own. We'll have to work together. Do you think you can stand up?" She asked concernedly.

Oh, so that's what she wanted. He could barely comprehend anything right now, it was like his brain had melted into mush. Wait- she was helping him? But he thought she wanted nothing more to do with him.

"I uh... I think so..." He replied. He felt sick. His throat hurt, had one of the wolves' managed to catch his neck? He didn't think so. But his voice was strained.

"Don't try to speak. Save your energy." She instructed him. She then took hold of his arm and pulled him to his feet. "You can lean on me if you have to." She told him, wrapping his arm around both of her shoulders.

Beast took her up on her offer, as he felt like he was going to collapse again at any given moment. He didn't lean on her too hard, though, as he feared it would throw her off balance. They walked slowly across the ice towards her horse, his legs trembling and threatening to buckle. All of a sudden, one of his legs gave weigh, but he managed to catch himself on his knee. He was worried that he nearly dragged her down with him, but she managed to remain upright, and catch him from falling. She placed her hand of his chest, to keep him from tipping forwards and knelt down beside him. "Are you alright, do you need a minute to rest?" She asked.

Beast was about to say he was fine, that he could keep going, but then he remembered that he needed to save his energy and refrain from speaking. He shook his head, and Belle helped him back up.

They approached her horse, who looked very startled by the strange, hideous creature staggering towards him. The horse neighed, shaking its head and backing away.

"I'm going to get him and try to calm him down. Will you be fine standing on your own for just a few seconds?" She asked.

Truthfully, he was ready to faint at any second, but he still nodded yes to her question.

She moved away from him, but lingered for a moment in close proximity, her arm outstretched so that she could catch him if he fell. Despite all the odds stacked against him, he somehow managed to remain standing, even though his body was screaming at him to give up and lie down.

Beast swayed side to side as he watched Belle walk over to her horse. She took hold of the reins and stroked the horse's nose soothingly. She then brought him over to Beast, and stood beside him once again.

"Do you think you'll be able to climb up into the saddle?" She asked.

Beast nodded slowly and stumbled over to the horse. He took hold of the saddle, and Belle stood behind him with her hand on his back, while her other hand was on the reins and keeping the horse steady. Beast struggled, his legs aching as attempted to jump up and put his leg over. It was clear to him that it wasn't working, he wouldn't be able to get on the way he used to get onto a horse. His injuries, nor his body would allow it. After several failed attempts, he finally managed to hoist himself up and into the saddle. It took whatever energy he had left to drag himself onto the horse's back.

Belle stroked the horse's neck, checking Beast as well as her trusty steed over, making sure he was secure in the saddle and that he wasn't putting too much strain on her horse's back. "The worst is over now." She told him. "Try to stay awake and keep hold of the saddle. I'll handle the rest." She added. "I'll get you back to the castle. I promise."

Her words were comforting. He believed that she would see her promise through to the end.

She gently pulled on the reins, and the horse walked on. Beast sank forwards, nearly falling onto the horse's neck. He gripped the front of the saddle tightly as he blinked, drifting in and out of consciousness.

He was barely awake for any of this, and before he knew it, he had arrived back at the castle.

But just as they had reached the steps leading up to the door, the world seemed to spin, and the next thing he knew he was lying on the cold, snow covered ground.

He must have... Slipped off.

He stared blankly up at the sky, at the stars he had been admiring earlier, that were starting to be covered by the clouds rolling across it.

Belle was tugging at his shoulders. "Come on, you have to get up! I am not dragging you up all of those stairs!" She shouted. "We're so close, don't give up now."

He groaned and rolled over onto his front, and began to crawl up the stairs, and eventually got up onto his two legs. Belle presumably put her horse in the stables, and then hurried over to him, helping him up the stairs.

As soon as they were through the front door, Beast fell to the ground once more, with no intention of ever getting up. He was back in the castle now, with a roof over his head and a warm fire close by. That's all that mattered.

The last thing he saw before he passed out was Belle staring down at him. Her face seemed to glow in the orange candle light... Almost like an angel...


	21. Chapter 20 - Nursing Away the Pain

**Chapter 20 -** **Nursing Away the Pain**

He was in a peaceful, deep sleep, one that he didn't want to wake up from. He hadn't slept like this in a long time, he had always been so restless during the night, constantly tossing and turning.

Unfortunately, this state of bliss was short lived, when a surge pain shocked him awake. It felt like his arm was being stabbed multiple times. His eyes shot open and the first thing that escaped his lips was a loud cry.

Beast found himself lying in the comfort of his bed, wrapped up in the warm, wine red sheets. Belle was sitting beside him, holding his arm, unfazed by his outburst. In her other hand was a water soaked cloth, which she had most likely been using to wash the large claw marks.

He glanced around the room and noticed that the servants were gathered at the foot of the bed, watching silently. He then glanced down himself, and the bites and scratches that littered his body. There were more than what he originally thought. It would seem that he was no longer wearing his cloak, which he didn't mind all that much, as that old thing had definitely seen better days and had been practically falling apart. However, he did mind the fact that she had been cleaning out his wounds without giving him any sort of warning.

He pulled his arm away from her and clutched it with his other paw "A little bit of warning would have been nice!" He exclaimed.

"Don't be such a baby." Belle replied.

"I'm not a baby!" He retorted. "It just hurts, that's all." He mumbled.

"Well, if you hold still, and let me finish, then you'll eventually get used to it and it won't hurt as much." She told him.

"If you hadn't run away, none of this would have happened." He argued.

"If you hadn't attacked me and scared me out of my wits, I wouldn't have run away." She fought back.

"Well- ...You shouldn't have been in the West Wing!"

"Well, you should learn to control your temper!" She shouted.

He opened his mouth to say something, but then he quickly realised that this back and forth couldn't go any further. She was right. She had won. He had been defeated. He had nothing more to say, because he knew that no truer words had ever been spoken. His anger had become a big issue, and was at the centre of all of this. None of this would have happened if he remained calm.

Belle reached out to touch his arm, but he quickly retracted it. "Let me help you." She said, the tips of her fingers making contact with his fur. "You won't get any better if I don't clean your wounds. They could get infected." She added.

She was right once again. He was just afraid of the pain more than anything else. He hated the stinging sensation it left him with. But if it meant avoiding infection... Then so be it. He sighed and offered her his arm. "It will only sting for a minute, I promise." She told him, wiping the claw marks with the cloth.

Another surge of pain shot up his arm. He kicked his legs and hissed through gritted teeth, as he refrained from crying out again.

Belle gently washed the claw mark on his arm, applying little amounts of pressure. "Thank you, for saving my life." She said gratefully, moving onto the bite mark on his shoulder.

"I uh... You're welcome." He responded. "And thank you, for not leaving me to be eaten by a pack of wolves." He added. He didn't want her to think he wasn't grateful for that. She had every reason to leave him there.

He saw a ghost of a smile appear on her lips. "No problem." She replied. "Roll over so I can get to your back." She instructed.

Beast silently did what he was told and rolled onto his side. He heard the sound of Belle rinsing the cloth, before she came over again and washed the scratches. "I guess we're even." She muttered.

"I suppose so." He replied. He wasn't sure what else to say.

"There, that should be enough for tonight. See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" She asked.

"I guess not." He mumbled. It hadn't been as bad as he thought it would be, that's for certain.

"I'll clean them again tomorrow, if need be. For now, just try to get some rest." She instructed.

What was she, his nurse? Although, he did appreciate the help. He wouldn't be able to do this himself. Plus, her bed side manner wasn't so bad.

He remained on his side, resting his head against the pillow, even though his horns were making it rather difficult to fully settle. She didn't have to tell him twice, though, about getting some rest. He was certain he would be out like a light in seconds.

As he closed his eyes, and willed himself to go back to sleep, Belle's voice caught his attention, and brought him back to the waking world. "Why do you care about him so much?" She asked the servants.

Beast opened his eyelids partly and listened, breathing steadily, and whistling through his teeth, to give off the impression that he was asleep.

"We've looked after him all his life." Mrs Potts answered her.

"But he's cursed you somehow, why? You did nothing." Belle responded.

"You're quite right my dear. You see, when the master lost his mother, and his cruel father twisted him up to he just like him... We did nothing." Mrs Potts explained. Her voice was filled with sorrow and regret.

The mention of his mother brought about a twinge of sadness within him. That tiny feeling of loss quickly manifested into a huge, soul crushing feeling of sorrow and heartbreak. It hurt to think about her. It hurt more than his injuries.

Why did they have to talk about him when he was in the same room? Why did they have to delve into his past?

They blamed themselves that much for his downfall? Why? The only person to blame for how he turned out in the end... Was himself.

"Let him sleep." Lumiere butted in, ending the conversation. One by one, he heard the clattering of the servants leaving, followed by Belle's human footsteps. Through his slightly open eyelids, he could just about see her lingering in the doorway, looking at him, before closing the door and leaving him alone.

What was that about? That brief moment of her simply watching him. Did that mean something?

Did she feel... Sorry for him?

He decided that he wouldn't dwell on whatever that was now. He just wanted to go back to sleep, so that he could escape his body that was riddled with fiery, burning wounds.

He shut his eyes tight and after a few minutes, or at least what he assumed had been a few minutes, he drifted off into slumber.

As he went into deep sleep, his unconsciousness mind took him back to a fond childhood memory.

He was young. Human. Lying in the sick bed. He was burning up, his cheeks a rosy red, and his blonde hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

And there she was. His mother, standing beside a set of candles. The light gave her a heavenly glow. She smiled warmly at him and approached the bed, her white dress flowing across the floor, like a soft, fluffy cloud. The smile she gave him could particularly cure his illness all on its own.

"Will you sing for me, mother, to make me feel better?" He asked weakly, his throat sore from coughing all day. He had a fever, but she had told him plenty of times that it would clear up in a few days. He was just feeling sickly and down about having to stay in bed all day, instead of running outside and playing with Wilfred.

"Of course, sweet heart." His mother replied. "But make sure you get some rest, it will help you get better faster."

"I will." He said, nodding as he eagerly waited for her to start singing.

She drew closer and sat down beside him, placing her hand on his. "Days in the Sun, where your life has barely begun. Not until my own life is done, could I ever leave you." She sung, her voice soothing to the ears.

The young Prince blinked slowly, sleep beginning to take hold. His mother leaned forwards and kissed him on the forehead "I'll always be here for you, my love. Always."

Her voice echoed in his mind, growing softer and quieter, until he could no longer hear it. Beast opened his eyes and lifted his head, checking his surroundings. He was still in his bed, trapped in this body. His mother wasn't there. He was alone.

He'd give anything to go back to that moment he just dreamed of. To start his life over right then and there. He would make the right choices, he would never let his father's anger fester and infect him. He would carry his mother's memory through thick and thin, he would never push her away, never try to forget her. He would do everything in his power to prevent this future from happening.

But that wasn't possible. He had to stop living in the past sooner rather than later.

Why did he think of her now? He thought he was passed this. He had grieved, he had mourned her. Why couldn't he move on?

He supposed it had everything to do with Belle and the rose running out of petals. He felt like he was a little boy again, alone, lost and afraid, and all he needed was his mother, to be there for him, to comfort him. He was crying out for her. But she wasn't there. And without her... He was frightened.

He lay awake for some time, staring at the family portrait, picturing his mother in his mind, or at least trying to. He had come to realise that, over time, without his dreams aiding him, he was finding it harder and harder to get a clear image of her in his head without assistance.

The same could be said for his old appearance too. He couldn't picture that at all. He wanted to cry, as he had forgotten what his mother as well as himself used to look like.

* * *

He didn't remember going back to sleep. The last thing he recalled thinking about before he presumably nodded off was that no matter what he did, his mother's death would always haunt him. He had lost the one person he truly, and utterly loved with all his heart. Maybe the reason he had never found love was because he didn't want to let anyone in, in fear that he might lose them too.

But he needed someone. Someone that he could be good with, that he could welcome into his heart, knowing that they would never leave him. He wanted to feel love again.

A hand touched his forehead. He opened his eyes, and saw Belle sitting close beside him, checking his temperature.

She... Touched his face without even a single trace of fright. Did he dare to think that she was beginning to care for him?

Maybe... He had found that someone he had been looking for after all.

Beast smiled at her. That was the first time he had smiled at someone else in years. It felt... Good.

He closed his eyes again, and felt Belle remove her hand from his forehead, and then her weight on the bed was lifted as she got up and walked away.

No, it was too early to think like that. She was just tending to his wounds, because she felt like she owed him for saving her life. She tolerated him at the very least. It was nothing more than that.

"What happens when the last petal falls?" He heard her ask. Her voice managed to break through the veil of sleep.

"The master remains a beast forever, and we become..." Lumiere began to explain.

"Antiques." Mrs Potts followed up.

"Lightly used house ware." Plumette added.

"Rubbish. We become rubbish." Cogsworth finished.

"Is there anything I can do to help? There must be some way to break the curse." Belle asked.

"Well, there is one way-" Cogsworth began, but he didn't finish. Beast wasn't sure why, as he still had his eyes closed, but he guessed that one of the other servants had stopped him.

"It's nothing for you to worry about my dear. We've made our bed and we must lie in it." Mrs Potts responded.

There was a slight tremor that caused the castle to shake. Beast fluttered his eyelids open, but he didn't even have to look over to know that another petal had fallen. He could feel it in his gut.

It filled him with a sense of dread. Here he was lying in bed, unable to do anything about it. He was still too tired to get up. Maybe he'd rest a little longer, so that he could recover sooner.

He closed his eyes once again and welcomed sleep with open arms.

* * *

Beast could feel his arm being nudged. Was someone trying to wake him up? Why couldn't they just let him sleep for a little while longer?

Whoever they were, they were persistent and continued to shake him. They weren't going away anytime soon, so there was no escaping it. He was going to have to get up.

He groaned and opened his eyes, only to be immediately assaulted by sunlight that was coming in from the balcony. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, glancing over to the right side of his bed to see Belle, carrying a tray.

How long had he been out? Another day or just a few hours? It was probably the latter.

"How are you feeling?" She asked him.

"I've seen better days." He responded. "But I think taking the time to rest has done me a lot of good."

"That's good." She replied.

He glanced down at himself, to check his wounds, but instead noticed that he was wearing a white shirt. "Who put me in this?" He questioned, tugging at the fabric.

"I did." Belle stated.

Beast couldn't remember the last time he had worn a shirt. "Where did you find one big enough?" He asked half-jokingly.

"The servants gave it to me. They also gave me some other clothes for you to wear when you're ready to get out of bed." She responded, gesturing with a nod of her head. He looked in the direction she was indicating too, and noticed that there was what looked to be another shirt, which was blue with a floral pattern and buttons, a pair of trousers and a long suit jacket, all neatly folded at the end of the bed.

"Oh, yes. They mentioned something about making some clothes for me a while ago." He muttered, scratching his neck.

"Why didn't you wear them?" She asked.

"Well, I... I thought I could handle my clothing situation on my own." He responded. In actuality, he didn't want to make what had happened to him to become anymore normal than it already had. Making adjustments to suit his needs, making clothes that would fit, it wouldn't make him human. Why try to dress like one when he clearly wasn't?

Belle stared at him quietly for a moment, as if she was trying to read his thoughts.

"So... What did you come up here for?" He questioned, snapping her out of her trance.

"Oh, right... Yes! The servants wanted to bring you up some food, but I said that I would do it." She responded, lifting up the tray she was still carrying.

Beast let out a grunt of effort, his injuries still causing him a bit of discomfort as he sat up. Belle drew closer to the bed and placed the tray on his lap.

"It's not much, just bread and water. They said they'd prepare you a proper meal once you've fully recovered." She explained. She then walked off, grabbing a chair and pulling it over, so that she could sit down.

He stared at the large baguette that sat on his tray. He didn't need to complain, he would eat anything right now, even a simple loaf of bread. He was starving.

He was about to tuck in, when he glanced over at Belle, who was sitting silently with her hands neatly folded on her lap. She was staring blankly down at the floor, lost in her own thoughts. She must have been hungry too.

"Do you want some?" He offered.

She lifted her head, and gave the bread a quick look before looking at him. "No, you have it. I brought it up for you after all."

"But when was the last time you ate?" He questioned.

Belle went quiet, as she was probably trying to recall. It was definitely a bad sign if she was taking her time to remember. Almost as if it was on cue, her stomach growled. "I haven't eaten since I got here." She finally stated. "The servants offered to make me dinner yesterday, before the wolf attack... But they were too busy singing to actually let me eat."

That's what the music he had heard was all about. And so that was why she had been out of her room. The servants had let her out. They had disobeyed two of his direct orders. He couldn't say that he was angry about them trying to feed her though.

"We haven't had any guests in a while. They're just a little over excited about you being here and wanted to give you a performance. They can get a little carried away." He explained to her.

"I noticed." She said followed by something that he thought might have been a chuckle.

Beast picked up the bread and tore it in half using his fingers. "Here, we'll share it." He said, holding it out to her.

She hesitated for a moment, almost as if she was thinking that she shouldn't accept it. But in the end, she did take it from him. "Thank you." She said gratefully.

"Don't mention it." He replied, tucking into his half. "If you want anything else, then just head down to the kitchen and help yourself. The servants will tell you where everything is, just make sure they don't break into song and dance about it."

She smiled. "I'll keep that in mind." She responded, before eating her half of the bread.

After a few minutes of eating, and Beast offering her some of his water, which she also accepted, they were both done. Belle picked up the tray and put it to one side, before approaching him again. As she did so, he caught sight of her sleeve, which she had stitched up after his claws had shredded it. She caught him staring at it.

"Did I hurt you yesterday?" He asked worriedly.

"No, you didn't catch the skin, all you did was rip my sleeve." She told him, gesturing at her own handy work.

He breathed a sigh of relief. For a while, he thought he was just as bad as the wolves. "Thank goodness." He responded. "I'm sorry for lashing out at you like that, I didn't mean it, I just... I get so angry sometimes, and it's difficult to control myself when I do."

"It's alright. I forgive you. You made up for what you did by coming to my rescue." She told him. "I'm sorry too, for snooping around in your private quarters."

"You don't need to apologise. There was no harm done." He replied. "I'm the only one that should be sorry, and I truly, truly am."

"You don't have to keep apologising. I already said I forgive you."

"I just feel like I have to. What I did was terrible, and you nearly died because of it."

"But I didn't die. You saved me. That's all that matters. It's in the past now, so lets try to start over." She suggested.

He nodded in agreement. "That sounds like a good idea."

A wave of silence washed over them, as Belle awkwardly stood there beside his bed. It didn't take long before she piped up again. "Do you mind if I check your injuries?" She asked. "I need to make sure that they're healing."

"If there isn't a wet cloth involved." He replied.

"I can't make any promises. We don't know where those wolves have been, so who knows what could have been on their claws." She responded. "But it's worth taking a look."

"Fine." He mumbled. He rolled onto his side, and Belle lifted up his shirt to check his back.

"Whoa." She breathed.

"What is it, is something wrong?" He asked.

"No, it's just... Your wounds, they've almost completely healed. Even the fur is starting to grow back." She told him. She let go of his shirt and took a step back.

Beast rolled over onto his back. "Did you know you could do that?" Belle questioned.

"No, not really." He replied. He had found it strange back when he had sustained those injuries from his encounter with the hunters that they had healed rather quickly, but he hadn't thought much of it. But now, a fight like that should have put him out of action for weeks, months even... But this was insane. Was there no end to the mysteries brought about by the curse? It would seem that his body could repair itself in a day.

"This is remarkable." Belle commented in disbelief. "If you carry on like this, then you'll probably be able to get out of bed soon."

"Oh, and I was so looking forward to lying down and doing absolutely nothing." He murmured sarcastically. It was actually boring him to tears.

She didn't quite catch on to his sarcasm, judging by the odd look she gave him. He would have to work on his tone.

"Well, enjoy it while it lasts." She told him. "Try to get some more rest. Next time you wake up, I think you'll be ready to start walking around again."

More sleeping. He could not wait. Why was he being so sarcastic all of a sudden? Had Belle brought about this change in him? He was starting to feel a bit more like his old self... Slowly but surely.

"Alright." He agreed simply.

Belle sat back down in the chair she had pulled over. "I'll sit with you for a bit, just in case you take a turn for the worse." She stated.

That was doubtful, but it was nice to know that she was concerned about his health. Plus, her staying by his bedside just made him feel... Better.

Call him foolish but... Maybe she was starting to care for him.

One thing was certain, though. He was definitely starting to care for her.

* * *

 **A/N - Have you all enjoyed the last couple of chapters? Please let me know in a review of what you thought of this chapter as well as the others. And if you have any constructive criticism or just want to tell me what you really liked, then go right ahead! It really helps me out and makes my day.**


	22. Chapter 21 - The Gift of Knowledge

**Chapter 21 - The Gift of Knowledge**

He woke up again feeling refreshed. It was one of the best sleeps he had in years. He fluttered his eyelids and yawned.

Beast glanced over, and noticed that Belle was still sitting in the chair beside his bed. He thought she would have left a while ago, and yet... She had stayed, all this time, just to make sure that he had fully recovered.

She was absent-mindedly stroking her hair and talking softly to herself "Love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind-"

She was reciting a quote from A Midsummer Night's Dream. He had read that play while he was studying English Literature. "And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind." He finished the quote. He couldn't help himself, he enjoyed that play a great deal, even though he had been forced to read it for his education.

Belle's attention was immediately drawn to him, and she sat on the edge of her seat. "You know Shakespeare?" She asked, her eyes sparkling with wonder.

He let out a grunt of effort as he heaved himself into a sitting position. "I had an expensive education." He responded.

She opened her mouth to say something, but hesitated. She seemed flustered, as she obviously didn't expect him to be an avid reader. No one would ever believe that a huge, hulking monster would ever sit down to enjoy a good book. "Actually, Romeo and Juliet is my favourite play." She stated. She must have felt the need to clarify, after quoting A Midsummer Night's Dream.

He groaned and rolled his eyes, falling back on the pillow. "Why is that not a surprise?"

Romeo and Juliet was another play he had been forced to read for his education, to study and analyse every detail, to know inside and out. It was a chore to get through, as he wasn't very fond of it, and that was putting it lightly.

"I'm sorry?" She responded, a little stunned by him scoffing at her favourite play.

He took hold of the bed sheets and fiddled with them as he talked "Well all that heartache and pining and... Bleh." He stuck out his tongue. "So many better things to read."

The worst thing about Romeo and Juliet was that everyone treated it as a romantic play, when it was clearly a tragedy because they both die in the end! And just by looking at her and how she was acting like it was the greatest thing she had ever read, he just knew she was one of those people. Plus Romeo and Juliet constantly drooling over each other was just unbearable.

"Like what?" She questioned, challenging his point.

He pulled back the covers and swung his legs round to the side of the bed. "Help me get dressed and I'll show you." Beast replied.

Belle's eyes lit up, as she was bursting with excitement. She jumped out of her chair and hurried over to the bundle of clothes that was still placed at the end of his bed.

"Just bring me the jacket, I don't need the other stuff." He told her, as he attempted to get off the bed and stand up. He used the bed frame to hoist himself onto his feet. He swayed for a moment, his paws slipping on the floor. His legs were weak and felt slightly numb from not using them in what he assumed had been a day.

After few seconds of leaning against the wall, he began to get a pins and needles sensation in his legs, before he finally regained feeling in them.

Belle walked over to him with the long, blue jacket which was now unfolded. He took his hand off the wall and slipped his arms into the sleeves, and she let go so that he could throw it over his shoulders and adjust it.

The jacket was nice, it was a dark shade of blue, with a light blue floral pattern woven into it. The material lining the inside was silky and smooth. The jacket ran down to just above his ankles, and hugged his body. It was a perfect fit. It was much better than his old cloak. He wondered what had happened to it, it had been reduced to rags by the end of the fight with the wolves. It had probably been thrown away, which wasn't a very big deal.

"Are you sure you're in a fit state to walk?" She asked him.

"I'm fine. Just aching a little." He replied. "Come on, let's go."

He took a step forward, and hissed through gritted teeth when he felt a surge of pain rush up his leg. He glanced down, and noticed that there was a bite mark just above his paw. It was healing, but it was still visible. And painful. Was there anywhere on his body the wolves hadn't got him?

"Maybe you should go back to bed." She told him.

"No, no. I'm fine. After all, you did say I'd probably be able to walk around after a bit more rest. And I say enough is enough, no more resting."

"Well, if you're sure." She muttered.

He'd have to take it slow and steady. He limped out of the room, and Belle followed close behind, curious as to where he was taking her.

"So what's your favourite Shakespeare play?" She asked as they walked down the stairs.

"Hamlet." He answered immediately. He didn't need to think about it. When it came to Hamlet, there was no competition in his eyes. It was one of Shakespeare's greatest plays, and he loved the story and characters, as well as the theme of revenge. He felt like he could relate to Hamlet's struggle to challenge the dominant male figure in his life, which had been his uncle. Unlike Hamlet, Beast had never overcome the powerful hold his father had over him. "Have you ever watched a performance of one of his plays?" He asked her.

"No, never. But I'd love to! I've always wanted to see Romeo and Juliet performed live on a stage." She replied. "What about you?"

"I've watched a performance of Hamlet." He told her. On a trip to England, his father took him to the Globe Theatre to watch it.

"What was it like?" She questioned.

"It was good." He replied simply with a small dismissive shrug.

She was quiet for a moment as they reached the halfway point on the stairs. She then fired another question at him. "What are you going to show me exactly?"

"Wait and see." Beast responded. He was trying to talk to her and be mindful of the stairs at the same time, as his bitten leg was giving him some trouble. Multitasking was hard.

From assessing the situation and seeing how this conversation seemed to be playing out, he assumed that it was his turn to ask a question. "How many books have you read?" He liked making small talk with her.

"Quite a few. I've read all of the books in our village library. Well, it's not really a library, more of a church, and the priest lets me borrow from his book collection. I don't have many of my own, but I've been building up a collection, it's just taking a while. No one sells books in town because hardly anyone can read, so my bookshelf is rather bare." She explained. "How many books have you read?"

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and he led her over to the library. She just didn't know what it was yet.

"I lost count. I've read so many, some more than once. But I haven't read anything in a while. I do remember that I once read around two hundred books in a year." He told her.

"Impressive." Belle commented. From what she had told him, she had likely never seen two hundred books. "How did you manage that?"

"Whenever I read a book, I get so engrossed in it that I can't put it down until I've finished it." He explained.

"Me too. Once I start reading, I just can't stop."

So not only did they share a love of reading, but they had similar habits when it came to reading as well. He was starting to like her even more. Shame she had such poor taste in plays.

"What do you like most about reading?" She asked.

"I like the sense of escapism that it gives. It's like you can be transported to another world." He replied.

"I like that too. Back at the village, I've always wanted some form of escape." She told him.

They both went quiet. Now she had escaped her village, and ended up trapped somewhere else. He decided that he wouldn't talk about too much about the village, as it might cause her to think about her father, which wouldn't do her any good.

"Well, here we are." He stated, arriving at the door to the library. He jiggled the handle, noticing that it was unlocked. Beast recalled telling Lumiere to lock up the library, so that he wouldn't be tempted to go in there and use the enchanted book again. Maybe they had unlocked it so that if Belle wanted to explore in there, then she could. Or it was equally possible that they had never locked it in the first place.

He turned round to face her and pressed his back against the door.

She crossed her arms and gave him a sceptical look.

"So, I told you that there were so many better things to read than Romeo and Juliet." He began.

"That's fairly close to what you said upstairs." She replied. "But you still haven't told me about any alternatives."

"Well, I thought I'd show you, rather than tell you. You'll find that there are a couple of things in here that you can start with." He responded, turning around, twisting the door knob, and pushing it open.

He limped inside, looking around at the tall bookshelves, lined with row upon row of books, reaching up the ceiling. The fire in the corner was roaring, and the curtains were wide open, allowing natural light to flood in. The light revealed the large amount of dust particles floating around in the air though.

Beast glanced over at Belle, and noticed that she was standing close to the door, her mouth gaping open as she stared in awe at the vast amount of books.

"Are you alright?" He asked concernedly. She looked a little dazed.

"I've never seen so many books in all my life!" She exclaimed. "This is just... Wonderful." She added. She was breathless, completely overwhelmed by such a grand library.

He glanced around for a moment. To him, it was just his normal, day-to-day library. He hadn't appreciated it, or saw how special it truly was for quite some time. He wished he could see it through her eyes, rather than through the filter of his own. His uptight, privileged, spoilt old self wouldn't understand how she felt. But now... He was starting to.

She was right, it really was wonderful. "Yes, it is." He responded, looking back at her.

Belle turned to him, her face beaming with sheer wonderment. She was utterly blown away.

Why should he own such a fantastic library when she appreciated it so much more than him?

"Well, if you like it so much, then it's yours." Beast told her with a smile.

"Really?" She breathed, taking a step back and scanning the room again. "No, I couldn't." She said, shaking her head.

"I insist. All of this is yours, it belongs to you now." He responded. "It's time for you to add to that collection you've been building up."

"Thank you so much." She said gratefully. "This is just incredible... I'm speechless."

He smiled again and gave her a brief nod, before turning, gazing up at the large bookcases for a few seconds, before walking off.

"Have you really read every one of these books?" She asked.

He stopped and turned around swiftly. "What?"

Belle stared at him silently, waiting for a response. He huffed, blowing air through his lips, making them wobble up and down. "Not all of them. Some of them are in Greek." He replied.

She chuckled. "Is that a joke?" She questioned. "Are you making jokes now?"

He struggled to give her an answer, before finally saying "Maybe." He turned away again, and shook his head, groaning at his own joke. That was bad. He'd have to work on his material.

It did make her laugh though, so he felt a little accomplished. Maybe she liked his sense of humour. Surprisingly enough, he actually used to have one, and still sort of did.

As he limped away, he heard Belle squeal. Beast paused and glanced over his shoulder, and saw her covering her mouth as she spun around, admiring the books that surrounded her. All of them her's. He could just imagine what was going through her head right now. So many possibilities, she probably didn't know where to start.

He smiled to himself as he watched her run her hand along the bookshelves. Any minute now, she might cry tears of pure joy.

And that's when he realised just how much he loved to see her happy. Not only that, but he loved making her happy. That's what he was going to strive to do from now on.

Because if she was happy, then he felt happy too.

* * *

 **A/N - Getting notifications about reviews always warms my heart. The continued support is fantastic, and I'll never stop telling you all how grateful I am. It's good to find people that are passionate about reading my story just as much as I am passionate about writing it. I hope you all continue to share what you like about each chapter in the reviews, as I love reading them.**


	23. Chapter 22 - A Crystal Forest

**Chapter 22 - A Crystal Forest**

After visiting the library, Beast headed back upstairs to his room. He found the shirt and trousers Belle had laid out for him still at the end of his bed.

He couldn't believe he was going to do this... But he was going to attempt to put these clothes on. The trousers would be easy, the shirt was the main concern. He didn't know how he was going to thread those tiny buttons through the tiny holes with his massive paws.

But he was going to make an effort. He wanted to dress more human, so that he would appear more human, and then Belle would feel comfortable around him. And maybe as an added bonus, he might feel a little more human too.

He took off the jacket he had worn to go downstairs, and put it on the bed for the time being. He decided that he would put the trousers on first, and save the shirt for last. He glanced down at the faded, tattered, torn trousers that he was wearing, and realised that they were the exact same ones he had worn when he first transformed all those years ago. He was rather impressed by the fact that they hadn't just ripped apart or fallen off his body at some point or another. They had seen better days, that much was certain. It was about time he changed them.

He sat down on the bed, and began to pull them off. His long tail was the first obstacle, as when he had first transformed, his tail had grown and burst through his trousers. The only way to deal with it was to thread his tail through the hole it had made for itself. Needless to say, it was hard to get them round the part of his leg that curved backwards, and it was struggle to get them off once he reached his paws, as they were too large and wide for the leg gap. No wonder he hadn't taken them off in ten years. Not to mention it hurt when the trousers rubbed against the bite mark on his ankle. But eventually, after some wriggling and kicking, the trousers were finally off, and he threw them to the other side of the room.

He picked up the new pair, which were a dark shade of blue. They were designed for his paws and leg-bone structure in mind, so they were much less of a hassle. He managed to put them on quite easily, and his tail was allowed to sit above and hang out of his trousers. It was surprising how much he forgot about his tail, in the early days he had stepped on it multiple times, which hurt quite a bit. Sometimes it had a mind of its own, and would swish from side to side for no reason. At least it didn't give him too much hassle, he could ignore the extra appendage sticking out of his behind if he tried hard enough.

Next came the true challenge that would test his patience. Putting on and buttoning up the light blue shirt.

Beast pulled the white one he had on over his head and discarded it along with his old trousers. Although he had no intention of putting the old trousers on again, perhaps he'd wear the white shirt underneath something in the near future.

He picked up and unfolded the blue shirt. He slid his arms into the sleeves with ease. Now came the difficult part.

He hadn't buttoned anything up in a long time, as his gigantic paws and large fingers and claws made delicate work impossible. But he would do his best, after all, he wasn't doing this for himself.

He started from the bottom and worked his way up. He made several mistakes, sometimes the button wasn't completely through the hole, sometimes it was in the wrong hole, sometimes his fingers clashed. It was a true endurance test.

After what felt like hours, he finally made it to the collar and threaded the last button through the hole. He had given up on a couple of buttons, but the majority of them had been done. He let out a sigh of relief as turned the collar down and finished off his new look.

Now that... Was an ordeal. But he persevered, and hopefully it would all be worth it. He picked up the jacket again and put it back on.

He glanced down at himself for a moment. He actually looked good, dare he even say... Prim and proper.

His stomach gurgled. The bread he had earlier hadn't satisfied his hunger.

He wondered if Belle had helped herself to something in the kitchen like he advised. After all, she had eaten half of his bread, so that wouldn't have put her on very much.

It was lunch time round about now. At least, that's what he assumed. It seemed like that time of day, plus he smelt the servants preparing something when he passed by the kitchen on his way upstairs. If his nose wasn't deceiving him, then he would say they were making tomato soup.

Beast decided that he would go and ask Belle if she wanted to join him for lunch. And there would be no shouting or screaming this time. He would make sure of that.

He walked downstairs, only this time he wasn't limping as much, as the pain from his injuries were starting to subside, as they faded into nothingness. Almost like they had never been there. Once he reached the bottom of the staircase, he went back to the library. He just had a strong feeling that she would still be there. She most likely wanted to explore every nook and cranny before she even thought about leaving to go to another part of the castle.

And sure enough, his assumption was proven correct. She was sitting in the library, reading a book.

"I thought I might find you here." Beast stated, catching her attention.

Belle lowered the book and left it opened out on her lap. "I never left." She replied.

He hummed in response.

She looked him over, glancing up and down his body and giving him a double take. "You look smart." She then commented.

"I uh... Thank you." He replied bashfully. He didn't think she would notice so quickly, but then again, it was quite a difference from his shredded cloak and torn trousers. "What are you reading?" He asked, changing the subject.

"Don't hate me, but... I found a copy of Romeo and Juliet." She answered.

"Of course you did." He sighed. "You know, I gave you this whole library so that you can read anything but Romeo and Juliet."

"I couldn't help myself!" She responded. "I'm almost done, so I'll make sure to read something else soon. I won't let any of these books go to waste." She told him. "Even if I have to learn Greek."

Did she... Did she just reference his joke from earlier? Did she really like it that much?

He chuckled at that. "Listen, I was wondering if you, maybe... I don't know... You wanted to join me for lunch?" He asked.

She titled her head slightly "Is it optional?" She questioned.

"Yes. I won't force you to eat with me." He replied.

She went quiet for a few seconds, glancing down at her book as she pondered over her decision. "Yes, I would like to join you for lunch."

She actually said yes? Whoa... Who knew that being nice to someone could get you places.

The answer is most people. The majority of people know that.

"Alright, great." He responded, although he was acting a little awkward. What was going on with him?

A wave a silence washed over the two. They were both waiting for the other one to make a move and simply start walking over to the dining hall, but neither of them did, leaving them both in an awkward and unnerving situation.

"I think they're making tomato soup." He told her, trying his best to start up some sort of small talk. He was failing.

"Oh, that's nice." She replied.

He decided to make the first move. "They'll probably be serving it soon. Would you like to head over?"

She nodded in agreement and got up out of the chair. "Do you mind if I take my book with me?" She asked.

"No, not at all." He responded. "You can do whatever you like."

Beast turned and walked out of the library, with Belle following close behind him. They reached the dining hall, and found that Beast's meal was already set out, but not Belle's.

Mrs Potts came in on her trolley, and her eyes widened in surprise when she saw them together. "Oh, Belle! We didn't realise you were joining us for lunch!" She cried. "But don't worry, there's plenty of soup to go around, I'll go get it sorted out immediately!" She declared, before rolling back into the kitchen.

Beast lingered beside Belle, as he didn't want to start eating when she currently didn't have anything. "Sorry, I probably should have let them know that I was going to invite you to lunch." He apologised.

"It's fine." She replied simply.

They stood in silence for a few seconds. They seemed to keep doing that, it made him quite tense. Beast felt like he should say something... But what?

"You um..." He began.

She looked up at him, and he could feel himself sweating as those brown orbs watched his every move. He didn't think this through at all, and now he felt like he was under a massive amount of pressure. "You're- you're very good with your hands." He told her. He felt like face palming, that was so obscure and random and terrible. What was he thinking? Why was she having this effect on him that was turning him into a bumbling fool?

Belle opened her mouth, and left her jaw hanging whilst she tried to process what he had just said "Thank you...?" Was all she managed to come out with.

"The way you treated my wounds, and stitched up your sleeve, you just- you know how to handle things with care." He clarified.

"Well, when your father works with clocks and such, you learn how to have a steady hand." She told him.

He nodded. Maybe what he had said wasn't so stupid after all.

The door opened again and Mrs Potts, along with Chapeau, the coat rack, entered. Chapeau was carrying a bowl of soup along with a basket filled with bread, to dip into the soup. "Here you are!" Mrs Potts said cheerfully.

Chapeau placed the bowel and basket at the opposite end of the table.

Beast walked over to his chair and sat down, and Belle did the same at her end. She picked up a napkin and placed it down on her lap, and propped her book up against a glass that Chapeau had just poured water into.

"Enjoy." Mrs Potts told them, before taking her leave, with Chapeau following her, and leaving the two alone once more.

Belle picked up a spoon and scooped up some of the tomato soup and blew on the steaming hot liquid. She glanced at her book and continued to read as she ate.

Beast sat and watched her eat as he waited for the soup to cool down. It was much cooler now compared to Belle's, as his had been sitting out longer compared to her's, and there was hardly any heat coming off of it.

She looked away from her book to pick up some bread and caught his eye, and the two shared a glanced before Beast dunked his face into the bowel and lapped up the soup using his mouth and tongue.

He lifted his head back up, his chin and mouth covered in soup, and dripping from his fur. He locked eye contact with her again, and he could see Belle was containing her laughter, as she was trying so hard to keep a straight face. She quickly fed herself some more soup to keep herself quiet and turned back to her book, as the mere sight of him with food on his face was going to set her off.

They didn't look at each other again for the rest of the meal. Beast felt rather embarrassed and ashamed, even though he hadn't care about what people thought of his eating habits for a long time. Why did he suddenly care now?

Belle placed down her spoon and moved her book so that she could pick up the glass of water and drink it. Once she had finished it off, she placed it back down on the table, removed the napkin from her lap, and stood up, pushing her chair out as she did so. "Tell the servants that I say thank you for the meal." She told him. "And thank you for letting me join you." She added, collecting her book and leaving the room.

"You're welcome." He muttered, even though she was gone.

"Master!" Lumiere exclaimed, startling him a little. Where on earth did he come from? Did he come in while Belle was leaving? "How did you manage to get her to join you for lunch all by yourself?" He asked, hopping onto one of the chairs, and then onto the table.

"I just asked her." Beast replied.

"Really? Well that's... Brilliant!" Lumiere cried. "I'm so proud of you, you managed it all by yourself. You've put us in a good position, I think we might be one step closer to breaking the curse. Perhaps we can make this work after all."

"I don't know about that, Lumiere... All I wanted to do was invite her to lunch, there wasn't any meaning behind it. And you can't force these things. I don't want to force her into doing anything ever again." He stated.

"I'm not saying that you should force her to fall in love with you, that's not how love works, but you need to earn her trust, form a strong unbreakable bond."

"How do I do that?" Beast questioned.

"Well, why don't you try to find something that you both equally like that you can do together?" He suggested. "It's a nice day outside, the sun is out, and there's no snow falling. Why don't you take her for a walk round the garden? She likes flowers, doesn't she?"

"Yes, I think so. She likes roses for starters." Beast replied.

"There you go then! Seize this opportunity while the day is still young. You used to love that garden, and if you take a walk with her, you might start to like it again."

Beast nodded "Alright, I'll ask her to join me for a walk." He declared, pushing out his chair and standing up.

"Good, I look forward to seeing how it turns out. Just remember to make it sound like your idea." Lumiere advised.

Beast walked over to the door, and paused on his way out "Oh, and she said thank you, for the meal." He told the candle stick, before pushing the door open and leaving the dining room.

He couldn't find Belle in the library, so his next best bet was that she was back in her room. He made his way over to the East Wing. His leg wasn't hurting him as much now, so he was managing to walk properly without limping.

The injuries on his torso were causing a bit of discomfort and rubbing against his shirt. He reached Belle's room, and noticed that the door was propped wide open, and she was sitting by the window, which was also open, with a book in her hands. It looked like a different book from the one she had before.

Beast lingered outside as he didn't want to intrude. Instead, he knocked on the door with one finger.

Belle lifted her head and smiled at him. "Hello." She greeted.

'Hello'. It was such a simple greeting, and yet, he hadn't heard it in a long time. It made him feel welcome. "Hello." He responded, lifting his paw and giving her a small wave. "May I come?" He then asked.

"You may." She replied, mimicking his words. He hoped that she liked that he respected her privacy and giving her her own space.

He stepped inside the room and walked up to her. "What are you reading now?" He asked curiously.

"A collection of poems. I thought I'd put Romeo and Juliet down for a bit." She replied.

"Are they all by the same poet or different ones?" He asked.

"The same. They're by William Sharp." She told him.

"Hmm. I don't think I've read any of his work." Beast murmured.

"Well, after I've finished reading it, you can have a look at it." Belle suggested.

"Oh, I don't read books anymore. I haven't for a while." He responded.

"Why not?" She questioned.

"I find it hard to turn the pages, my claws just end up ripping them... So I gave it up. It was too much for me to bear." He explained.

She gave him a saddened look. But then, her face lit up, as she seemed to have an idea. "I wouldn't mind reading to you if you find it difficult." She told him.

"Really, you'd do that?" He asked.

"Of course. It would be a shame for you to miss out on something you love. I'd be happy to read to you anytime you like."

"I'd like that very much." He responded. He could feel his own face brightening up. Hearing her narrate a book to him would be a great experience. He could hardly contain his excitement. He hadn't been able to enjoy a book in ages. Or enjoy anything for that matter.

Beast looked at her for a moment, and then outside the window. "Are you not cold?" He questioned, referencing the fact that she had both the door and the window open. It was good for air circulation, yes, but sitting right next to it? Shouldn't she be freezing?

"No, not really." She answered. "The wardrobe gave me this wool cardigan to wear. And a few more dresses." She added, adjusting said green cardigan that was hanging over her shoulders.

That's when he noticed that she was wearing a different dress than the blue one she had arrived at the castle in. When had she changed it? Probably when he went to sleep after sharing that bread with her. The one she had on was green, the same colour as the cardigan, and shared a similar floral pattern to that of his own clothing.

"Your dress is nice." He mumbled a compliment. "Green is good on you."

Everything that was coming out his mouth just felt wrong to him. Was he trying too hard? He did mean it though, green is a good colour on her.

"I prefer blue." She replied.

He glanced over at her bed, and it suddenly dawned on him that she didn't have any bed sheets after he had taken them away. That was the first thing he should have fixed!

"I'll make sure that one of the servants bring you up some new bed sheets." He stated, gesturing over at the bed which had been stripped down to the mattress.

She stared quietly at the bed for a moment and then looked back at him. "You trust me with them?" She questioned.

"You saved me from the wolves. My life was in your hands... So of course I trust you."

He wasn't sure why she was still here. Maybe it was to make sure he had recovered, maybe it was to help the servants break the curse, even if she had no clue as to how. But whatever the reason, he had a feeling that she wasn't going to try and escape again.

"I'm glad you can trust me." She responded.

The two went quiet. Belle glanced out of the window, and he stared at the back of her head, at her long, brown locks, while she looked at the garden. "It's a nice day out." She commented. "I'd really like to have a look around the garden."

"Well, as a matter of fact, I came up here to ask you if you wanted to have a walk in the garden with me." He told her.

She looked back at him. He quickly took his eyes off of her, trying to avoid letting on that he had been staring at her when her back was turned. "Can you give me a guided tour?"

He was in the clear. She hadn't noticed.

"I can take you wherever you want to go." He replied.

Belle nodded and stood up. "I'll take this poetry collection with me, and then I can read to you along the way."

"That sounds like a good idea to me." Beast agreed.

He allowed Belle to go through the door first and followed after her. As they walked, he began to wonder what exactly it was about her that was affecting him so much. There was just something about her... It was beyond words.

* * *

No snow, no wind, no nothing. The sun had managed to break through clouds, causing the white blanket of snow covering the ground to sparkle, and the icicles hanging from the trees to glisten.

The weather just felt perfect. Well, as perfect as it could be for an eternal winter. Beast and Belle walked along side each other on the twisting and winding path. Belle admired the flowers as they moved at a steady pace.

"It's a shame that they're frozen." She commented, bending down to look at one flower in particular, its petals covered in frost.

"It is. I'm afraid there's not much I can do about that." He replied.

"They're still quite beautiful either way." She stated, rising to her full height and carrying on.

Beast clutched his side as whatever remained of his injuries stung. Belle gave him a quick glance, but said nothing. Hopefully, the soreness would go away soon. After all, his body was repairing itself at such a fast rate, that only the pain seemed to linger.

"If you don't mind me asking, why don't you eat with a spoon?" She questioned, looking up at him. "Or any cutlery for that matter."

"I find eating with cutlery just as hard as turning the pages of a book. They weren't exactly designed with my massive paws in mind. I just end up bending or snapping them. Plus they don't exactly fit in my mouth correctly, my fangs get in the way. It's just easier to eat the way I do." He explained. "Sorry, if it bothered you."

"No, not at all. To be honest, I found it sort of funny, but I knew I shouldn't laugh. Your situation must be hard." She responded. "But you shouldn't give up if things get too difficult. You should keep trying and find a way to make it work."

"It just seems pointless to take such extreme care with something that used to be so easy." He stated.

"I can understand that, but there's got to be a way that you can manage, so that you can do things the way you used to. You have to trust yourself." She told him.

"I don't trust myself to do anything right. I break things, and I hurt people. Everything I've ever done... Has been wrong." He murmured sadly.

"That's not true. You saved me didn't you, and you gave me such a wonderful library. Doesn't that count for something?"

"I suppose so." He replied.

"If you have faith and trust in yourself, then I'm sure you can do things right, whether it be something big or small." She told him.

"Well, I'm glad that at least someone believes in me." Beast said.

Belle glanced down at the poetry book she was still carrying. She had been reading quite a few poems to him over the course of their walk. "Here's a good one." She stated. "A Crystal Forest." She read out the title.

Beast listened closely as they began to approach a bridge overlooking a frozen lake. "The air is blue and keen and cold, with snow the roads and fields are white. But here the forest's clothed with light. And in a shining sheath enrolled. Each branch, each twig, each blade of grass, seems clad miraculously with glass."

Her voice faded into the background as they reached the centre of the bridge, and Beast gazed at the frozen lake, and at the frost covered willow trees that surrounded it. Beyond those trees and stretching out onto the hills and into the horizon were more trees, covered in a thick layer of snow. The sun reflected off the surface of the ice, making it sparkle, while the leaves on the trees looked like crystals. It was a magnificent sight to behold, one in which he hadn't gotten to fully look at and appreciate in a long time. He hardly ever ventured into the garden.

One corner of his lips turned up ever so slightly as he drew closer to the wall of the bridge and admired the view. Belle came to stand beside him, and gazed at it along with him.

"I feel as if I'm seeing it for the first time." He breathed. He glanced at her, and then looked down at the book. He struggled to speak after being lost in a daze, but eventually managed to get the words out. "Is there anymore?" He asked curiously.

Belle let out a small chuckle, glancing down at the book, and then giving him a small look as he waited patiently.

"Above the ice-bound streamlet bends. Each frozen fern with crystal ends." She continued.

He looked back at the lake and listened carefully, taking in every word she breathed.

"And in that sullen silence is heard the whisper of every sleeping thing. Look, look at me, come wake me up. For still here I be."

She looked up at him again, and he met her gaze. He related to those words on so many levels. After all this time, his human self had been trapped inside this body, and needed someone to wake him up, to remind him of who he once was.

And he believed that she would be the one to wake him up. To find him.

He smiled at her and she smiled back. He felt like he had stared at her for too long, and quickly looked away, whilst she did the same.

They were both silent as they stood, avoiding each other's gaze. "I think I might take a walk on the ice." Belle stated.

Before he could say anything, she walked off the bridge, and tested the frozen water by putting one foot on it. There was no creaking noises or cracking, in fact it seemed pretty solid.

She walked further onto the ice and turned to him, as he remained on the bridge. "We could walk over to those trees on the other side." She suggested, pointing in the direction of the frost covered willow trees. "We could sit under them and I could continue reading to you."

"I don't know about that. It might support your body weight, but not me." He replied, shaking his head.

"I'm sure it can support both of us. This lake must have been frozen for a long time, right?"

"But look at me, I'm huge!" He exclaimed, gesturing at himself.

"So?" She questioned. She walked over to the bridge and looked up at him. "Like I said earlier, you've got to start trusting yourself. You'll never do anything if you hold yourself back." She told him. "I know that you're afraid of what you're capable of, but I trust you, and you trust me. So have a bit more trust in yourself."

Beast went quiet. She was right, he had been holding himself back for so long, because he was afraid of what he could do. But if she believed in him... Then maybe it was about time he did too. "Alright, I'll give it a shot. But if the ice breaks, then it's down to you." He warned.

"I'll accept the blame. Now come on." She urged.

Beast sighed and walked off the bridge. He stood on the edge of the bank for a moment, before taking a shaky step onto the ice. His paw almost slipped and he nearly fell back, but he managed to maintain his balance.

He put his other paw onto the ice and stood completely still for a few seconds. He did it... He actually did it! He was standing on the ice! And it didn't show any signs of breaking either.

He walked over and joined Belle. "See, I told you. I knew you could do it."

"Yeah, yeah." He muttered dismissively.

"Come on, let's head over to the trees." She said, before turning and walking off. He followed her, when all of a sudden she slipped. She spun around, losing her footing, almost falling backwards, before she fell into him, colliding with his chest. He managed to stay firmly rooted to the spot and caught her in his arms. It was almost like he was giving her a warm hug.

He could feel his cheeks growing warm as she stared up at him. "Thanks for catching me." She said gratefully.

If his face wasn't covered in fur then she would see that his cheeks were glowing bright red. "You can let go of me now." She told him.

"Right, sorry!" He said, feeling flustered as he allowed her to stand on her own.

"How do you manage to stay up right?" She questioned, combing a bit of loose hair behind her ear.

"My claws make it easy to grip the ice." He replied.

She hummed in response, and steadily walked over to the opposite side of the lake. Once they reached the snow covered bank without any more mishaps, they sat down under one of the willow trees, each of them leaning back against the trunk on the opposite side to each other.

Belle opened up the book to the page she was on. "Now, where were we..." She muttered to herself. "Oh, we have quite a few poems left." She commented.

"I look forward to hearing them." Beast replied.

And so, Beast and Belle sat under the willow tree for some time, going through every poem. Belle's voice was pleasing to the ear, and worked well with narration. She put so much effort into reading, and there was never a dull moment, nor did she ever sound monotone.

But all good things must come to an end, and eventually she reached the end of the collection. "That's it." She stated, shutting the book.

"That was great. You're really good at narration." He told her.

"Thank you. I've wanted to read books to the school children back in the village for a long time... But the headmaster always declined my offers."

"Whatever for?" Beast questioned.

"They don't believe a woman should be able to read." She replied, hugging the book close to her chest.

"Well, that's ridiculous. You should be allowed to do whatever you want. It doesn't affect them in any way." He replied. His mother could read, and no one ever stopped her. Then again, she had been the Queen, so not a lot of people were allowed to question her. Even still, anyone should be allowed to read, no matter what their gender is. That's what he believed, anyway. "If I was that headmaster, I would let you read to the children any day of the week. I'm sure they'd love to listen to you. I have."

She beamed "I wish they felt like that."

"Well, I know one thing. I'm going to start reading again, no matter how difficult it is to turn a page. I'll do it, no matter how long it takes." He declared strongly.

"I'm glad to hear it. Maybe you could read to me some time." She suggested.

"I doubt you'd want to listen to my voice going on and on." He replied.

"I don't know, you might sound good." She responded. "You never know." She added, as she got up.

Belle rubbed her arms and shivered, as Beast used the tree to hoist himself back up.

"It's gotten colder." She commented, hugging herself and attempting to insulate her body.

"It tends to do that. It's either cold, or really cold. There's no alternative." He said, letting out a small chuckle. "Maybe you should have worn something other than a cardigan. It kept you warm in your room, but out here it's a lot different." This wasn't helping her get any warmer. She was starting to look a little annoyed. He should probably stop talking.

Beast watched her as she shivered. He wasn't really sure what to do, if he hadn't been running his mouth then they could have set off and headed back to the castle a minute ago. Then again, there was no way to keep her warm on the way. But then he had an idea. He removed his jacket and offered it to her. "Here, take this. It will keep you warm."

"Don't you need it?" She asked.

"No, I don't feel the cold. My fur keeps me warm." He answered. "You need it more than I do."

"Thank you." She said gratefully, taking the jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders. It looked massive on her.

"Better?" He asked.

"Better." She replied with a nod.

"Let's go back to the castle. You can warm yourself by the fire." He suggested.

She nodded in agreement, and the two began to walk back. He noticed that his jacket was being dragged across the ground, but he didn't mind. As long as it was keeping her warm, that's all that mattered.

He was starting to enjoy her company more and more, with every passing minute that he was in her presence. She gave him confidence, she helped him believe in himself. The servants had been trying to do the same for years... And she managed it in a day.

He was starting to wonder how he had ever managed to get the strength to carry on without her.

At first, he thought she was a nuisance, that she was completely insufferable. But now... She was everything he could have ever wanted and more.

Was he falling for her?

No, he couldn't be. Could he? He really needed to figure out how he was feeling. There was so much confusion going on inside his head.

Should he tell her? How would he do that without coming off as insincere or an idiot? He didn't know how to talk about his feelings, or open up to people.

How did she feel about him? Did she feel the same way? She couldn't have. She just felt sorry for him and indulged him because she wanted to take sympathy on him. That's all. Everything else he had just confused for affection. There was nothing there.

Why were there so many barriers in his way? All he ever seemed to do was get over one obstacle and crash into another.


	24. Chapter 23 - Something There

**Chapter 23 - Something There**

Beast and Belle arrived back at the castle before she could catch a cold. Belle sat wrapped up in his jacket by the fire, cosy and warm. He then asked Mrs Potts if she'd go and give Belle some tea, which she happily went and did so.

Whilst she was warming herself up with a steaming cup of tea and a roaring flame, Beast went into the library and took out a stack of books and carried them upstairs to his room. They were quite short, so that he could start off small, after not reading a single book for over a decade. Although he had come across Hamlet, and couldn't help but pick it out, so that he could read it last if he got through the others well enough.

He took the time to take hold of a page with the tips of his fingers and delicately turn it, so that it wouldn't tear. It was a slow process, but if it stopped him from damaging the book and allowed him to enjoy it, then so be it.

He was halfway through the first book he brought up when someone came knocking on his door. "Who is it?" He called out.

"It's me." He heard Belle's muffled voice reply.

"Come in." He told her.

She pushed the door open and stepped inside. She was now adoring a red dress, with a red cloak to go along with it, which seemed like a much more fitting outfit for the cold weather. How did she manage to look good in everything she wore?

"What can I do for you?" He asked.

"Nothing." She replied. "I just came to give you this back." She stated, holding up his jacket that she had folded over her arms.

"I almost forgot about that." He commented, as she walked over and handed it to him.

"Thank you for letting me borrow it." She said gratefully.

"No problem." He replied, slipping it back on. "Are you warmer now?" He asked.

"I am." She responded. "I see you've taken up reading again." She commented, picking up one of the stray books he had left on the bed.

"I thought I may as well seize the day. No time like the present." He replied.

"Do you still think you could read to me?" She asked.

"If you really want me to." He replied.

"I would. Whenever you're ready, I'll be there to listen." She told him.

"Well, then I'll have to find my favourite book for such an occasion."

"Your favourite book, huh? What is it?" She asked.

"I couldn't say." He replied with a smirk.

"Oh, it's a secret." She twigged on. "Fair enough." She added, putting the book back on the bed. "I was also wondering if you'd like to come and meet Philippe?"

"Who's Philippe?" He questioned.

"My horse. I couldn't have saved you from the wolves without him." She told him.

Oh, of course! The horse. Who else would she have been referring to? "Well, I'd definitely like to meet my other saviour. I wasn't formerly introduced to him when I was on the brink of passing out." He said half-jokingly.

She smiled "I'm sure he'll love to meet you too. He's a big softie." She stated. "I have to go tend to him, make sure he's fed and watered. You could help me if you like."

"Sounds like you're tending to a plant." He commented wittily.

She let out a small laugh "Horses are a little different." She replied.

"I know. I'd liked to help you with him." He responded. "Lead the way."

Belle nodded and turned, walking out of the room. Beast sped up so that he could walk alongside her.

They headed downstairs and out the front door together. But once they reached the stables, Belle told him to wait. "He might get spooked by you." She explained.

"A lot of people do." Beast sighed sadly.

"That's not what I meant, horses just frighten easily."

"It's alright. I know what I am." He responded. "You just bring him out here."

Belle went quiet as she headed into the stable. There was just no avoiding it was there? It was hard for them to dance around the subject of what he was. Belle was trying her best to not draw too much attention to it.

He hoped she didn't think he was offended by it, that she had hurt him in some way. He wondered if she was anymore used to him, now that she understood him a little more, and had heard bits and pieces about his past. It still had to be at least somewhat strange for her whenever she looked at him.

Belle emerged from the stable along with Philippe. He was unshackled from his reins and bridle. She walked him out in front of Beast and left the horse's side for a moment to join him.

Philippe remained where he was, sniffing and pawing at the ground with his hooves. "He has everything he needs in there." She stated. "Would you like to pet him?"

"Can I?" He questioned.

She nodded, urging him with a small gesture to go ahead.

He hadn't petted a horse in ages! It would be just like old times, with Candide or Jean. He took a step towards Philippe, his arm outstretched.

Philippe saw him approaching in the corner of his eye and cried out in alarm, backing away. Beast's eagerness and the fact that he was being too forward with his approach had frightened him. Not to mention Philippe had no idea what to make of the large, ferocious creature striding towards him.

Beast quickly backed off, as he too was a little startled by Philippe as he became jittery and began to neigh fearfully in a state of panic and unrest.

Belle went up to Philippe and placed her hand on his nose, whilst stroking his neck with her other hand and hushing him. Beast lowered his head sadly and looked away. Even animals were afraid of him, whether he was trying to be menacing or not. No matter what he did... He could never do anything right. Instead, he had done the one thing Belle had wanted to avoid, startling her poor horse.

Maybe he should just go back inside and continue reading, that was the one thing he was managing to do correctly. Now his confidence had been shot all over again, just when it had started to be built back up with Belle's help.

Philippe's nerves had been calmed by Belle soothing him. She then turned and reached out to take Beast's paw in her hand. They connected, and in that moment, Beast felt some sort of spark between them. Her hand was warm to the touch, so tiny compared to his paw. And yet, he wanted to hold it, to give it a gentle squeeze and rub his thumb over her delicate skin.

She held his paw in her hand, cupping her fingers round as much of it as she could grasp. His fingers spilled over her palm.

But despite that his paw was clearly too big for her to hold... It just felt so right.

She moved his paw for him and placed it on Philippe's neck. Her hand lingered on the back of his for a moment, as she silently helped him.

Philippe's grey and white fur was so silky and soft, not to mention smooth. He couldn't believe he was actually touching him, that Philippe hadn't ran away at the sight of him. He was actually doing it! For once, his body hadn't made a mess of things.

And he had Belle to thank. He looked at her, and she nodded at him, moving her hand away from his paw. He knew from that simple nod that she trusted him to pet Philippe on his own now without her aid, that he could handle it.

Beast nodded back at her in thanks, and drew closer to Philippe, placing his other paw on his neck and stroking his fur. Belle walked away and left him to it.

Philippe seemed perfectly fine with him now, which Beast was pleased with. The horse lowered his head and snorted, shaking himself. Beast grinned and copied him, doing his best horse impression and shaking his head. He used to copy Candide, and to a lesser extent Jean, all the time. He enjoyed doing it, as it always made him feel... Well, silly. But silly in a good way.

He patted Philippe's neck again. "You're a good boy." He told him, giving his nose a gentle stroke. "See, I'm not so big and scary, huh?"

Philippe snorted again. "No, I'm not." Beast agreed.

All of a sudden, something whizzed through the air and made impact with his shoulder. Philippe moved round in slight alarm, but Beast managed to hold him steady as he glanced at his shoulder, and noticed that his jacket was covered in snow. He had been hit with a snowball.

He heard laughter coming from above, and quickly found the culprit. It was Belle, sitting on the staircase, her red hood thrown up over her head. She was laughing and grinning at her own surprise snowball attacked.

Beast frowned. Two could play at that game. While she was distracted, he gathered up as much snow as possible from a nearby bush and packed it together into a big snowball.

He turned round and Belle's laughter was cut off, and her smile dropped when she caught sight of the massive snowball he was carrying. She knew it was headed her way, and in that moment, he could see that she had realised her fatal error. She picked the wrong person- creature to have a snowball fight with.

He leaned back and threw it over arm at her. The snowball met its target and hit her square in the face, knocking her down.

Beast burst out laughing, his cheeks were stretched out in a huge, toothy smile as he chuckled. But his laughter died when he noticed she wasn't getting back up.

Oh no. Had he knocked her out? He didn't know his own strength, and he hurled that thing pretty hard. What if she banged her head the floor or something?

He quickly hurried passed Philippe and up the stairs, and found Belle lying sprawled out on her back, snow covering her face.

"Oh no, Belle! Are you alright?!" He cried in alarm, kneeling down beside her. "God, what have I done?" He breathed. "Belle, can you hear me?"

Her eyes shot open and she shoved a fist full of snow in his face. "Aaah!" He cried, standing up and moving back, attempting to remove the snow from his eyes.

He could hear Belle laughing hysterically. "Got you!" She said through sharp intakes of breath and more laughter.

"It's not funny!" He exclaimed, finally getting the snow out of his eyes. "I thought I had seriously hurt you."

She shook her head and giggled "No, I'm fine."

He clenched his fists and glared at her.

"Don't be like that. Come on, it was a little funny." She said, still giggling to herself.

He couldn't keep a straight face and keep up the serious act. Her laughter was too infectious. Not to mention a complete joy to hear. "Yeah, it was quite funny." He agreed. "You got me good."

"I sure did." She chuckled.

"You may have won this round, but I'll get you next time, with an even bigger snowball." He warned.

"I'd like to see you try." She replied. She then glanced down at Philippe, and he followed her gaze, noticing that the horse was beginning to wander off. "I better go catch Philippe before he starts eating some of your flowers. I'll see you at dinner though."

Beast nodded "Yes, dinner. I'll see you in the dining room in a few hours then."

"I'll be in the library if you need me." She told him as she hurried down the stairs and went after the runaway horse. "Philippe, come back here!" She called after him.

Beast chuckled to himself as he headed back inside. As soon as he entered the castle, he noticed that the servants were gathered by the window, staring outside. "What are you doing?" He questioned.

"Nothing!" They all cried in unison, before jumping out the window sill.

"Were you watching us?" He asked.

"Would you be mad if we said yes?" Lumiere responded with his own question.

"No, not really." Beast replied.

"Oh, well then yes, we were." Lumiere told him.

"But it was all in good taste." Cogsworth chimed in. "We wanted to see how you two were doing."

"We're doing just fine." Beast replied.

"We've never seen you look so happy when you're with her." Mrs Potts commented.

"I detect romance." Lumiere said.

"There's hardly anything romantic about mucking out a horse." Beast protested.

"You didn't actually muck out a horse, did you?" Cogsworth questioned.

"No, but that's beside the point. There's nothing going on between us. You're looking too deeply into it." Beast responded. "I'm going back to my room for a bit. Belle will be joining me for dinner." He stated, before walking off and leaving them to it.

He found himself thinking back to earlier, when Belle had touched his paw. He glanced down at it for a moment. She didn't flinch, nor did she shudder... She wasn't even afraid to hold it. She seemed to look at him in a certain way now, he couldn't fully describe it. But no one had ever looked at him in that way before. She hadn't looked at him that way when they first met for that matter.

Was she falling for him too? No, she couldn't be. She saw him as a friend at the very least, maybe even less than that. He'd just ignore it.

But... He couldn't shake the feeling he got when she touched his paw, and the way those brown orbs gazed at him.

Maybe there was something there after all.

* * *

 **A/N - I decided against actually having Belle and Beast sing the song 'Something There', not because I don't like the song, it's actually one of my favourites from the movie, but because the song is a montage of scenes of them bonding over several days, which I have split over several different chapters, so I couldn't really make the song work, as each verse would take place in a completely different chapter, plus I don't think having it in story form would have done it any justice. Instead, some of the lyrics were converted into Beast's thoughts. I hope you still enjoyed it nevertheless.**


	25. Chapter 24 - Building a Bond

**Chapter 24 - Building a Bond**

Not long after he had eaten dinner with Belle, Beast headed downstairs with a few books to put back in the library, and so that he could pick out some more. It was also an excuse to see Belle, as she would most likely be there. Where else would she be? She loved the library so much that she would spend every waking moment in it if she could.

As soon as he entered and started placing books back on the shelf, he did a quick sweep of the area, and spotted her sitting at a desk on the other side of the room. His assumption had been proven correct.

She was surrounded by stacks of books, and had three books open and sprawled out in front of her, along with several loose pieces of paper. She was practically taking up the whole table.

"Fancy meeting you here." Beast commented sarcastically as he walked over to her.

Belle had her head rested on her arm, and looked like she was ready to drop off. She looked up from the book she had her eyes on and smiled drowsily. "I can't keep away." She murmured.

"Are you sure you have enough books?" He joked, gesturing at the ensemble she had gathered.

She chuckled "I think I could do with a few more." She replied, playing along with his joke.

"What do you need them all for?" He questioned.

"Well, I was doing some research on magic and such." She replied.

"Learn any spells?" He asked.

"No, couldn't find any books on how to actually do magic for some reason. Most of these a just folklore." She explained. He could tell she was partly joking, as of course he wouldn't have any books on how to perform magic spells. "I just wanted to gain a better understanding of the curse that's been put on you all, so that I can be more of a help to you and the servants."

"You don't have to do that. It's not your responsibility to deal with. You shouldn't lose sleep over it." He replied.

"I'm not losing sleep. I'm just a little tired after going through so many books, it can really wear you out." She told him. "And besides, it's something that I'm going to have to deal with if I'm going to be living here. There has to be some way to break the curse, but so far I've come up with nothing." She murmured defeatedly. "Cogsworth was saying something about there being 'one way' but Lumiere cut him off."

"You really shouldn't worry about it." Beast reinforced his earlier point. It was something she didn't have to burden herself with. Plus, she couldn't know that love was the answer, or else it would scare her off. She would think that all his advancements were done just to save himself, when hardly any of them were. All he really wanted was to make a connection with her.

"But I do worry." She responded. "I'm worried about what's going to happen to everyone if I don't do something. There has to be something I can do."

"Even if there was something you could do, it's too late now. Stop trying to carry the weight of our problems on your shoulders. You don't owe it to us." He told her. "You can't fix what I've done."

She glanced down at the table for a moment, avoiding his gaze. "How exactly did all of this start? What cursed you?" She asked. "Was it an object? A wish you made that backfired? A witch? A warlock?"

"An Enchantress." He responded.

"Did it have anything to do with the rose?" She continued questioning. "Did you steal it from her?" She asked, referencing her father's punishment, and how he had treated her father's crime as being very similar to what had lead up to his own punishment.

"No to both of those questions. I used to think that it had everything to do with the rose, that it was all solely down to it. But now... I realise that the only real cause for all of this was me." He explained. Beast then sighed and rubbed his neck uncomfortably. It felt like his clothes were getting tighter, suffocating him. "Look, I really don't want to talk about it. It hurts to even think about it, of what happened that day, what I went through... I'd rather not relive those painful memories."

She gave him a sympathetic look "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to push you. I shouldn't have brought up." Belle apologised.

"No, it's fine. You were only trying to help, that's all. I greatly appreciate that." He responded. He then looked around at the table for a moment, trying to find something, anything to change the subject. That's when he caught sight of a book that didn't have anything to do with magic. He picked it up and turned it around so that she could see the cover. "Leonardo Da Vinci, huh?"

"I was looking at some of his inventions." She explained. "All of his sketches and plans are really quite fascinating."

Beast looked down at the pieces of paper that were littered across the desk, and picked up one. It looked like an exact replica of one of Leonardo's designs. His winged flight machine to be exact. As he looked closer, all of the pieces of paper had sketches of Leonardo's invention on them. "Did you draw all of these?" He asked.

Belle nodded. "Yes. I like to sketch out these kind of things." She replied. "Sometimes I do a bit of inventing myself."

As he shifted through the pile, he noticed one sketch that didn't look like an invention at all. It looked more like a drawing.

"Wait, don't look at that one!" She blurted out.

Too late. He had already picked it up and was examining it. It quickly dawned on him that it was a pencil sketch of him. Well, it was just his head. She had gotten down the mane-like fur, his large ram horns, the fur that surrounded and masked his face, and his too human looking eyes. She had drawn him smiling. It looked like a genuine smile, both corners of his lips turned up. He looked rather happy in this depiction.

His silence was making her anxious. "I'm sorry, I know it's really bad. It's so crude... I should have just thrown it away. I can draw machines just fine, but anything else I'm just terrible at."

Beast lowered the piece of paper and looked at Belle. He then smiled at her, which judging by her facial expression, it surprised her a great deal. "What are you talking about? I think this a very good drawing." He responded. "And I hate looking at myself, so you should take that as a massive compliment."

"You really mean that?" She asked.

"Of course. You got the details of the fur down, as well as the horns. And the eyes? They're the best part, there's so much emotion in them. I think it's brilliant."

She smiled brightly. "Well, I'm glad you like it."

"I do." He stated. He then turned the drawing around and showed it to her, so that she could compare her sketch to the real thing. "Did you do it from memory?"

She nodded. "Yes. I thought I might try drawing you because... Well, you don't see something like you very often." She explained. "I just thought it was really bad as I'm not much of an artist. That's my father's department."

"Well, I think you're a good artist." He stated. "You captured me rather well. And I'm quite honoured that you'd want to draw me, when... Well, I'm not exactly all that great to look at." He murmured.

"It's not that bad." Belle replied. "You're really not as ugly as you think. If you were, then I wouldn't have drawn you."

It was nice to hear that she thought that about him, but he didn't believe it. He thought she was just saying that to be nice, to make him feel better about himself. She knew from just being around him that he hated everything about his appearance. "Are you sure you didn't take any liberties? Tried to make me look slightly less assaulting on the eyes?"

Belle shook her head. "No, I drew you how you look."

"Is that really what I look like when I'm smiling?" He asked. Maybe she did mean what she said after all. He really wasn't that bad to look at? Maybe she was saying that because she was used to him a little more now.

She nodded. "Yes. Your face just lights up. It's quite sweet." She told him. "You should smile more often."

"Maybe I will." He replied. He thought he had been doing it enough as it is, but when he thought about it, he hadn't really smiled at all for about ten years, so a couple of smiles thrown Belle's way were a lot compared to how long he had spent completely miserable.

Beast put the drawing back down on the desk. "Did you say you like inventing earlier?" He then asked, as he realised that he had completely ignored her while he went through her sketches.

"I do. I don't make stuff like this obviously, but I have made a few things, just to make life a little easier." Belle replied. "Here, let me show you." She added, digging into her pouch that she had wrapped around her waist more often than not, along with a tool belt of some kind. It seemed to be interchangeable with whatever dress she wore. From within the pouch she retrieved a crumpled up piece of paper, which she then handed to him.

Beast stared at it for a moment. It looked like a barrel, on the surface of a small body of water, filled with clothes. There was an arrow pointing that the barrel would be pulled round the edge of the water, while it would rotate in a circulation motion, which was indicated by another arrow. He couldn't really make sense of the contraption, but he was sure Belle would explain it. "What is this?" He questioned curiously.

"I call it a washing machine." She replied. "I made it so that I could wash the laundry without having to do it by hand, so that I could free up more time to read." She explained. "I managed to build it and test it out in the village. The barrel was placed in the water, but wasn't completely submerged in it, and then I used a donkey to pull it round the water, so that the barrel could rotate and all of the clothes could be washed during its spin cycle."

She sounded really enthusiastic about her invention. The joy on her face as she explained how it worked was a big indicator too.

"Did it work?" He asked.

"Yes. But the villagers didn't approve." She replied, looking a little disheartened.

"What happened?"

"While I was doing the laundry, I tried to teach a girl to read. But as you know, the villagers don't like the fact that I can read, so they definitely weren't happy when I tried to teach someone else. So, they decided to publicly humiliate me, and tipped all of my clothes out on the ground. By the time I collected them all up, they were more dirty than when I started." She finished, sighing deeply.

"Sounds to me that they don't like progress." He commented.

"They don't." She confirmed.

"Well, I think it's a great idea." He told her. "Genius in fact."

She smiled. "I'm glad you think so. You're the only one that really understands."

"Do you think you could build something like this here?" He asked.

"I don't know, it depends really. I'd need something to put the clothes in, and a water source, and not to mention something to pull it. I had everything I needed at the village." She explained. "Why, do you need something to wash your clothes?"

"No, I don't take mine off very often. I was thinking more about your clothes." He replied. "I'd just like to free up some of the servants time so they weren't working constantly. They like doing it, to keep themselves busy, but I just think they should spend more time with each other, before they lose whatever time they have left. And if you need your clothes washing, they'd happily do it, but it would only eat up more of their time."

"I see. It's nice that you're thinking of them and keeping their best interests in mind." Belle responded. "I'll see what I can do, have a look around the castle to find things I can utilise. Maybe I'll upgrade my design a little so that I can make it work with what I've got. And if not, I'll just wash my clothes by hand myself, that way they won't have to bother."

"Hopefully you'll manage to build a washing machine here, I'd really like to see it in action." Beast stated.

"It would be good if I could build something here where it would be appreciated." Belle agreed.

"Well, if you need any help with it, then just ask and I'll do what I can." He told her.

"Thanks." She replied gratefully.

Beast was quiet for a moment and rubbed his arm. "I was also wondering if you maybe wanted to read Romeo and Juliet to me."

Belle raised an eyebrow in confusion. "But I thought you hated it."

"I do. I just want to give it another chance because you like it so much. I thought if I heard you read it, it might change my view on it a little." He explained.

"I'd be happy to!" She replied. "I've always wanted to read it and enjoy it with someone else." She added. "Now where is it? I think I left it under the pile of sketches." She muttered to herself, reaching over and moving the pieces of paper out of the way to reveal the book hidden underneath.

She picked it up and sat back down in her chair. Beast walked off and pulled over another chair, placing it down beside her and sitting down comfortably in it. "I don't expect you to force yourself to enjoy it just for my sake." She told him as she opened up the book.

"I won't. But I haven't read it in a while, so who knows what will happen. Maybe I will end up enjoying it, maybe I'll end up hating it even more." He replied.

"Just promise you won't scoff at the romantic parts."

"I'll try my hardest." He said with a sly smile.

She frowned at him, and he chuckled in response. "I'm teasing you. I wouldn't have asked you to read it to me if I wasn't going to give it a fair chance."

Belle glanced down at the pages and then looked back at him. "Are you ready?" She asked.

Beast nodded. Colour him surprised, but he was actually looking forward to this. Just the prospect of Belle reading to him was exciting enough. She could read much faster than him, since she didn't have to worry about ripping any pages. And her voice was nice to listen to.

Belle looked back at the pages and cleared her throat before beginning. "Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona, where we lay our scene, from ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes, a pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; Whose misadventured piteous overthrows, do with their death bury their parents' strife..."

* * *

"...For never was a story of more woe, than this of Juliet and her Romeo." Belle finished. She closed the book and held it close to her chest.

Beast had gotten settled during the reading. He had has arms crossed on the table, with his head rested on them. He had been gazing at Belle throughout the whole thing.

"What did you think?" She asked.

"Honestly? It wasn't as bad as I remembered it." He replied. "I wouldn't say I'm a fan of it, but... Well, it's good. Your narration made me appreciate it more. Just your enthusiasm while you're reading... I think you could make me like any book I hate just by reading it."

She smiled "I'm glad to hear that."

"There are still a lot of books out there that are so much better, though." He stated.

"I can't deny that." She responded. "It might take me a while to work through all these books to find one I like more."

"I'll help you pick out some good ones if you like." He told her.

"I would like that." She replied. "Maybe tomorrow, though."

"Yes, I agree. It's getting rather late. We should probably call it a night." Beast stated, rising from his chair.

Belle stood up as well, closing the three books she had left open on the desk and adjusting the stacks of other books ever so slightly to make her work space look more organised. "What time is it exactly?" She asked.

"I don't know, you'll have to ask Cogsworth. He always knows what time it is." He replied.

"How does he read his clock face?" She questioned.

Beast opened his mouth to say something, but paused when he realised he didn't have an answer. "I... Don't actually know. I've never thought about that."

She laughed "Maybe you should ask him. Sounds like he's got some sort of trick up his sleeve."

"Well, I'm going to head to bed. Thanks for reading to me again, I fully enjoyed it." He said.

"No problem. When do you plan on reading your favourite book to me?" She asked him.

"When I find it. It's hidden around here somewhere." He replied. "Plus I need to get a little better at handling books with care."

"If you're worried about taking too long to get through it, I really don't mind. You can take as long as you need to read to me." She told him.

"Then I'll read to you as soon as I get the chance." He responded. "Now, I really should get to bed."

"Alright. I'll be heading up soon too, I just need to clean up a bit before I go. I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight." Beast said to her.

"Goodnight." Belle replied.

Beast walked out of the library and headed up the stairway towards the West Wing, but paused halfway when a thought came into his head. Belle knew about inventing, and mentioned something about her father making clocks. He recalled his old, forgotten playroom, and his broken music box that was still sitting in there. The music box had crossed his mind of few times over the years. Whenever he had thought of his mother, he wished he could have listened to the music box, so that the tune would sooth him, and help him miss her a little less.

Maybe Belle would know how to fix it. He'd like to listen to it again, at least once. Even if she didn't know, it was definitely worth asking.

He'd have to look into it tomorrow. For now, he just wanted to go to bed, after such a tiring, eventful, but joyful day. He had never felt so alive.

Once he got back to his room, he removed his jacket and climbed into bed immediately, eager to end the day so that he could wake up early in the morning, and start all over again. Tomorrow was another day. Another he could spend with Belle.

The thought of possibly having a music box to listen to tomorrow night lulled him to sleep. He could almost hear the long forgotten tune as he drifted off into slumber.

* * *

Beast woke up early the next day. Normally, he would lie in bed for a while and refuse to get up. But that wasn't the case now the Belle was here. She was the reason he got up in the morning. She was the reason he kept on living.

He got out of bed straight away, donned his jacket and headed downstairs. He then ventured to his old playroom to retrieve the music box.

The playroom was just the same as he left it. It must have been about eight years since he went in there, and during that amount of time it had collected even more dust, as well as some more cobwebs. The music box was located at the back of the room, where he had put it. He avoided the toys that littered the floor and approached the music box, picking it up and blowing off the dust that had landed on it.

Beast held it in his paws for a moment and smiled fondly. The thought of getting it fixed was rather exhilarating. He couldn't wait to show it to Belle.

He wondered if she was awake yet.

"Morning." A voice behind him said, catching him off guard and startling him a little.

He turned around, and saw Belle standing in the doorway, adoring her red dress once again. She was lacking her cape this time, but had her tool belt and pouch strapped to her waist. She glanced around at the playroom for a moment, and then looked directly at him. "I saw you come in here and I thought I may as well greet you." She told him. "How are you?"

"I'm good, thank you. What about yourself?"

"I'm good too." She replied. "I also wanted to let you know that when I went to bed last night, I stayed up for a bit and worked on my washing machine design. I've updated it quite a bit, but I'm still not sure if I'll actually be able to build it."

"Oh well, even if you can't, at least you have an upgraded design now which is at least something." He responded.

Belle lingered in the doorway, her eyes darting around the room again. "What is this place?" She asked curiously.

"It's my old nursery and playroom." He replied. "You can come in if you like." He then added. He could tell she didn't want to intrude. Last time she went into one of his private areas, he screamed at her and attacked her. He wondered if that played on her mind, if she was a little wary of him because of it. Was she worried about him snapping?

Belle stepped inside and bent down to take a closer look at the rocking horse beside the door. "It looks like its seen better days." She commented, taking her eyes off the rocking horse and looking at the other toys, as well as the rest of the room that was lacking any sort of care.

"Yes, it has. I haven't had much use for this room in some time." He responded.

"Why did you come in here then?" She questioned.

"I came to get this." He stated, holding up the music box.

Belle came over to examine it more closely. "I thought you might be able to fix it, since you're good with machinery. You also mentioned that your father makes clocks, so I assumed you might have picked up a few things, like how to repair a broken clock, or in this case, a broken music box. It's all just cogs and springs, right? Well, I assume so, I don't really know that much." He explained.

She looked at the music box and then looked up at him. "My father likes to make music boxes." She told him. "I help him with construction and repairs. I pass him the tools and pieces he needs, and sometimes I know what he needs before he does."

"Really? Well, that's brilliant. Your skills are even better than I hoped. Do you think you'd be able to repair this on your own?" He asked. "If you want to that is, you don't have to, not if you're busy."

He didn't want her to feel like she had to.

Belle took the music box from his paws and ran her fingers along the sun pattern that had been painted on it. She took hold of the handle and gave it a quick turn. She then held it up to her ear and listened to the sound of the inner mechanisms as they attempted to turn. "I could definitely take a crack at it." She responded.

"How long do you think it would take?"

"An hour. Maybe two, it depends if I can find what's wrong with it. It sounds like the cogs are stuck, maybe one of them can't turn properly." She muttered. "I might have to skip breakfast."

"You shouldn't miss breakfast just for my sake. How about I help you repair it? I can pass you the tools you need or the pieces you end up taking out. And if we do end up running into breakfast, I can arrange for the servants to bring us some food while we work." Beast suggested.

"That sounds like a good idea. I'd appreciate the help, that way I can get it fixed quicker." Belle replied. "Let's head over to the library, we can start work on it there. We'll sit at another table so that I don't have to clear the one I was working at yesterday."

And so, Beast and Belle headed over to the library and got settled down at one of the tables. Belle set to work on the music box, taking it apart piece by piece, laying every cog and spring on the desk until the music box was completely empty. She had a tiny set of tools that she carried around set out in a row. She asked him to pass her a specific one each time, which he was obliged to do so.

Eventually, after examining the pieces, she came across the source of the problem. Her theory had been correct, there was a cog that had become worn and bent, meaning that it couldn't turn properly, and ended up jamming the whole thing. But she managed to bend it back into shape, and all that was left to do was to put everything back in.

They had missed breakfast at that point, but Beast had gone to quickly fetch a plate full of biscuits, which they shared.

After passing tools and pieces over and over again, their combined efforts led to the music box being complete. Belle stood up and took a step back from her work. "I think I've done it."

Beast shot up, as he had been leaning lazily forwards for the last half hour. But despite his position, he had been invested in her work the entire time.

Belle closed the lid and held it up to him. "Would you like to give it a turn, see if it will work?" She asked, offering it up to him.

"I think you should do the honours. After all, you did all the work. I just passed you things." He replied.

"But it's your music box."

"Why don't we do it together then?" He suggested.

"That sounds reasonable." She responded.

The two took hold of the handle and gently turned it three times. They then let go and Belle placed the music box on the table as the crank began to rotate backwards. They waited with bated breath, hoping and praying that their hard work wasn't all for nothing. A soft, soothing tune began to play.

Beast felt his mouth stretch into a large smile. It was like he was being hit by a wave of calmness, that washed over his body and left him feeling refreshed. He flashed back to the days of his youth, where he felt young and alive. He felt that way now, hearing that blissful tune. He stared at the music box and couldn't stop himself from quietly humming along. That hum quickly developed into singing, and he uttered the words under his breath. "Days in the sun, where your life has barely begun. Not until my own life is done, could I ever leave you..." He then turned to Belle, who was smiling up at him, and how happy he was. His smile was so wide that his cheeks were starting to hurt. He felt a little embarrassed about breaking out into song in front of her. He should have known she would have been able to hear him, as he was standing right next to her.

"That's a sweet song." She commented. "To go along with such a lovely melody."

"It is." He agreed. "Someone I deeply cared about used to sing it to be before bed." He told her. He felt like he could share that information with Belle. He just didn't want to state that it was his mother he was referring too. It would be too painful for him to bring her up, as it would be like opening up old wounds.

"It's a nice lullaby. They must have really loved you."

Beast nodded. "More than anything."

"I caught my father singing a song about my mother. It was touching, just like the one you just sung. But as soon as I entered the room he stopped." She opened up to him. She seemed deeply troubled by it. There was clearly some suffering she and her father had endured at one point or another.

He was about to ask her about her mother, but stopped himself. He didn't like to talk about his own, and whatever had happened to Belle's must have been something traumatic. He didn't want to talk about it, and he doubted she would either. So he remained silent.

The music box stopped playing. The two shared a glance after the music died.

"Thank you for fixing it." He said gratefully.

"It was my pleasure." She replied. "Is there anything else around the castle that's in need of repair?"

"Where do I begin?" He chuckled. "The whole place is falling apart. Are you sure you're up to the task?"

"I'd like to work on something. I'm not really doing anything." She responded. "Maybe put a smile on the servants' faces."

If she was keen on fixing something else in the castle, then he'd be able to provide her with something. But what?

Then it hit him. "There is one room you might like to work on. It will be a bit of a challenge, but if you think it will be worth it, then I can show it to you."

"Sure, I'd like to see it." She agreed. "Lead the way."

Beast led her out of the library and in the direction of the entrance hall. He left the music box there, but intended on collecting it and putting it in his room later.

Belle seemed to be monitoring his walk pattern, and how confident he was in his stride. "You've gotten a lot better at walking." She commented "How are your injuries doing? I forgot to ask you earlier. I haven't given you a check-up since yesterday."

"They're doing just fine. They've completely healed." He replied.

"Your recovery time is remarkable." She commented. "Do you know how you managed to do that?"

"I honestly have no clue." He responded.

"Well, I'd say it's a blessing."

They reached the entrance hall, and Beast continued to lead her over to the ballroom. "Have you seen this room before?" He asked.

"No, I don't think so. I haven't had a chance to look around all of the castle. There's just so much to see."

"I don't think I've seen all of it and I live here!" He responded. He was joking obviously, there were just some corners of the castle he didn't visit very often, and for the life of him he couldn't remember what they looked like. "It seems to go on forever. A maze of corridors and rooms." He added, as they reached the ballroom. "Why don't you go take a look inside?" He suggested.

Belle nodded and headed into the ballroom. She stopped directly in the centre and spun around, taking all of the scenery in with a quick twirl and a sweeping look. She then glanced back at him, and raised an eyebrow when she saw that he was still standing outside.

"Aren't you coming in?" She asked.

"No, I uh... I'd rather stay here, in the doorway. Something traumatic happened in this room that I want to avoid reliving." He responded. "Sorry, I just... I just can't."

"It's fine. I understand." She replied. He was grateful that she didn't push him to explain himself, she saw that it pained him, so she moved on and didn't pry.

He just couldn't stand to be in that room, where it happened. Where he turned into this... Thing. He thought about that dreadful day enough as it is.

His only reason for being there was that he thought Belle might like it. He would have stayed well away if she hadn't showed an interest in giving the castle some tender loving care.

Beast could see the inside of the room well enough from where he was anyway. Some of the chandeliers were lying on the ground, covered in sheets of cloth and layers of dust. The windows were dirty, hardly allowing any light to shine in. The floor was filthy, it hadn't been mopped in over a decade, and the corners of the room had candle wax dripped down the walls and on the floor from the burnt out candles, there wicks were barely visible. The whole room smelt musty, and was dark and dimly lit. The room that had once held events of mass celebration had the life sucked out of it, leaving it an empty, hollow shell.

Belle gazed up at the windows, and then looked over at the fallen chandeliers. "What was it like before?" She asked.

Beast watched her as she walked around, examining some of the candles. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to picture the ballroom in its heyday. "It was magnificent." He stated, the image in his head becoming clearer. "Everything was cleaned to perfection, the floors, the walls, the pillars, making the whole room sparkle, in the sunlight and the moonlight. Whatever time of day it was, light would always shine through the windows, making the room glow brightly, even without candlelight. The crystals hanging from the chandeliers would sparkle, sometimes giving off a rainbow affect. Other times, they would almost resemble stars, twinkling in the night sky." He described it to her. "But it wasn't just the room that was special, it was the feeling that it gave you when you were in it. You could dance in here, and the music would take over your body. You would lose yourself in the music, and yet you would feel in complete control at the same time. You have such a wide space to use, to be free to do whatever you want. The moments that you spent in here would make you feel truly alive."

Beast opened his eyes, and noticed that Belle was now standing in front of him, her eyes wide and sparkling in amazement and wonder. "It sounds wonderful. I wish I could have seen it." She murmured.

"I wish you could have seen it too." He replied.

He saw a spark of ambition in her eyes. "I'm going to do all I can to restore it. I want to make it look exactly like it was, how you just described it to me. I want to see it look like that with my own eyes." She declared.

"You're welcome to do that. I'm sure the servants will gladly assist you." He responded. "But I can't have any part in it I'm afraid. I'd like to help you clean it up, but I can't. What happened in this room haunts me, I can't be in it."

"I completely understand." She replied. "But I promise you that you will be able to admire it just as much from the doorway once I'm finished with it. You'll be able to see it shine from across the hall."

There was a fire in her, there was no doubt about that. "I believe you. I know you'll make it look just as good, if not better than it was before." He responded.

"Now I have to see it through to the end and live up to expectations."

He knew all about expectations. The servants had high expectations for him, they strongly believed that he could break the curse. Although their expectations were impossible to meet as they seemed to keep growing, always out of his reach. Now that Belle was here, their expectations were even higher.

"You put that on yourself. So no pressure." Beast told her. "I'll leave you to it." He stated, turning and walking away.

Despite the fact that he had grown to strongly dislike the ballroom, he couldn't wait to see how Belle would do it up. But whatever she was going to do, he knew that she would do it justice.

* * *

 **A/N - Thank you so much for over 100 reviews! I've never gotten this many on my own before, but I once did when I was in a collab. The support is just amazing and can never thank you enough.**


	26. Chapter 25 - Untold Feelings

**Chapter 25 - Untold Feelings**

It was the following day. Beast hadn't seen much of Belle yesterday, or today for that matter. She had been busy working on the ballroom, and didn't have time for anything else, except eating and sleeping.

He didn't have a problem with it, it was just a little jarring to go from seeing her all the time to hardly seeing her at all. He was starting to wish he had shown her a different room, one that they could have worked on together, instead of the one that carried emotional baggage. But if she enjoyed restoring it to its former glory, then so be it. He'd sacrifice the time he got to spend with her so that she could be happy.

It was lunch time, and Belle had come to join him at the dinner table. They were having tomato soup again, which was probably leftovers from the first batch the servants made. It still looked fresh though.

He couldn't believe it had only been two days since Belle had agreed to eat with him. Time seemed to be moving by so fast, and yet it felt like he had known her for much longer. It was certainly a huge difference compared to the days before she had arrived at the castle. Everything just seemed to drag, and he had found himself wishing for it to be over. But now that she was here, he didn't want the days to end. He wanted them to last forever.

They didn't interact much at the dinner table. Belle was scooping up the soup with a spoon whilst reading a book, occasionally glancing up at him. He hadn't started eating yet, as he was too busy savouring the moment, before she inevitably went back to working on the ballroom.

He didn't like the distance between them at the dinner table. It felt like she was miles away, and if he wanted to talk to her he would have to shout. It reminded him of his mother and father, who used to always sit at opposite ends of the table, never breathing a word to each other. There was no intimacy. It seemed so symbolic of their relationship, the distance that separated them at the dinner table was like the empty void that was their failing marriage.

He didn't want their relationship to be like that. They had made great strides, they actually tolerated each other! He could even say that they respected one another. He definitely respected her. That was more than his parents ever did. He wanted to close the gap, but he was hesitant to do so. He didn't want to invade her space, or be too forward. He may have sat next to her in the library, but this was different, this was at the dinner table, where they were expected to be formal.

Belle put her book down and shared a glance with him. She noticed that he hadn't touched his food. She then tilted her head to the left and gestured at the chair next to her with her eyes.

She wanted him to come and sit with her. They were on the same page. Could she read his thoughts?

Beast collected his bowel and stood up, walking down the long row of chairs before reaching Belle, and sitting down in the chair next to her. He placed his bowel on the table, and was about to tuck in, when he remembered that he couldn't just dunk his face in it when he was sitting so close to her. He wasn't going to lap it up like a dog when he had been trying to behave more human for the last few days. Her words of encouragement from the other day had gotten through to him, he had been trying his best with the things he found difficult. He had made progress with reading, but he hadn't practiced spoon feeding himself. Plus he didn't bring any cutlery down with him, and he didn't want to get back up to grab some as he would feel a little awkward.

He sat there completely frozen, glancing between Belle and the bowel, unsure of what to do. Belle saw how uncertain he was, and placed her spoon down and picked up her own bowel with both hands. Beast watched her curiously as she gave him a look that said 'Here, copy me.' She then brought the bowel to her mouth and tilted it up, so that the tomato soup could run down to the edge of the bowel and she could drink it.

She was meeting him half way. If he couldn't use a spoon, then she found a compromise where they could both eat in the simplest and easiest way possible, that wasn't degrading or animalistic. Where they were both equal.

Feeling confident, Beast scooped up his bowel in his large paws and held it up. They both lifted their bowels up, to cheers one another, before they began to eat. Beast slurped his soup rather loudly, but he couldn't really help it, and at least it was a start. He was one step closer to behaving like a normal person.

They put their bowels down simultaneously, and Beast licked his lips. Belle let out a small chuckle, which was probably at the dumb look on his face. She then pushed her chair out, and picked up a piece of bread and stuffed it into her pouch. She was probably saving it for later.

She stood up and as she was leaving, she placed her hand on his shoulder, drawing his attention. "You're getting a lot better, you know." She said, giving him a warm smile.

"Anything is an improvement compared to when you first met me." He responded in a joking manner.

She snorted, laughing through her nose. "True. But I mean it, you really are getting better. I can see you're trying, but you don't need to feel like you have to rush it. Just take your time." She advised. She then removed her hand from his shoulder after leaving it there a little longer than she thought she should have. At least, that's what he could tell from her body language, as she rubbed her hand on her dress. Was she embarrassed? "Anyway, I'm going to get back to sorting out the ballroom. I think I'll be done soon. Then you can finally read your favourite book to me."

Belle moved passed him and walked over to the door. "Thanks for sitting with me. I'll see you later." She gave him a small wave before she opened the door and left the room.

Beast sat alone at the table for a moment, and picked up the book she had forgotten to take with her. She had been reading Frankenstein. Funny, he didn't think she would be interested in that kind of thing. Then again, he wouldn't have pictured her as having an interest in inventing. She was just full of surprises. Perhaps she had been reading it because she was living with a monster herself.

He'd make sure to give it back to her later.

"Hello, Master." Lumiere greeted, as he climbed onto the table. Beast didn't know how long he had been in the room.

"Hello, Lumiere." He responded dryly as he carefully flicked through the book. "What do you want this time?"

"We haven't had much of a chance to talk recently. You've been spending so much time with Belle. I just wanted to catch up with you, see how it's going." The candle stick informed him, walking across the table and standing on the other side of his bowel.

"It's going well. At least, I think it is. She seems to like me but... I haven't seen much of her recently, today or yesterday. We were getting on with each other, but then I showed her the ballroom and now her attention is focused on that." Beast replied, closing Belle's book and slipping it into his inside jacket pocket.

"I noticed. She's doing a splendid job, you know. She's been sorting out the chandeliers, hoisting them back up into their correct positions, and she's made this pulley system to lift herself up so that she can clean the windows." Lumiere informed him. "Why don't you help her with it?"

"I would, but... I don't like being in that room. It's a reminder of everything that's happened and... It hurts that I associate something so painful with the one room that used to be my favourite part of the castle." He explained. "But that's where I am right now, and I don't want to go in there when I'll end up thinking about what took place."

"Why didn't you pick a different room?" Lumiere questioned.

"Because I wasn't doing it for me, it didn't matter what the room meant to me. I was doing it for her."

"Oh." Lumiere murmured. "How do you think it's going as a whole, do you think you're getting anywhere with her?"

"Well, I'm not really sure, I'm getting mixed feelings." Beast replied.

"Ah yes. Women can be hard to read. They're not all an open book." Lumiere responded.

Was he making a literacy reference because of how much he had been reading lately? If so, then that was rather clever.

"Have you tried asking her how she feels?"

"Ask her? I can't do that. It might scare her off." Beast protested.

"Well, if you tell her how you feel about her, it will encourage her to share her feelings." Lumiere suggested.

"But I don't know how I feel." Beast responded. "All this is making my head hurt. I don't want to seem like I don't care but I don't want to be too forward with her either. I don't know what I'm doing."

"You have to find a balance in between the two." Lumiere stated. "I think you're doing rather well despite everything. Look what you did today! You sat next to her at the dinner table, you showed her that you're not uncomfortable with sharing your space with her."

"I only did that because she invited me to sit with her." Beast stated.

"But you still took it upon yourself to do it. You didn't have to sit with her. That counts for something, doesn't it?"

"I suppose. I'm just so confused right now. I don't know what I'm feeling."

"You will. This is all natural. You'll understand your feelings very soon." Lumiere told him.

Beast pushed his chair out and stood up. "I need some space and time to think." He stated.

"Of course, of course. Take some time to think about your feelings, and then you'll have a better handle over things." Lumiere recommended. "It's all starting to come together, just keep doing what you're doing. It will all start to make sense soon."

Beast simply nodded in response and left the dining room. Perhaps he'd go outside for a walk, where he could be completely alone with his thoughts. On the way over to the front entrance, several feather dusters, led by Plumette, flew passed him, heading towards the ballroom.

Mrs Potts was there too, along with Chip. She turned to greet him when Chip nudged her, alerting his mother of his presence. "Hello, Master!" She called over.

Beast approached the two, as it was clear that Mrs Potts wanted to have a conversation. "Have you seen what Belle's been up to in the ballroom?"

"No, but Lumiere told me about the work she's done." He replied.

"Isn't it fantastic? It's about time someone fixed up that room." The teapot stated. "How are you and Belle getting on by the way?"

Of course, that's what she really wanted to know about. She wanted to make a bit of small talk before the hard hitting questions. "Could we not talk about that please? I've already had a similar conversation with Lumiere."

"Oh, alright. Sorry." She apologised.

"It's fine. I know you're all eagerly awaiting news about whether or not I'm any closer to breaking the curse." He responded. "I'm just as clueless as you are at the moment."

Mrs Potts and Chip looked a little disheartened. He wished he had better news, but he honestly didn't know. He couldn't figure out how he felt or how Belle felt. It was just a mess of mixed and confusing signals.

He needed someone to talk to, someone that would just listen, and not remind of what his main goal should be, someone that didn't know about the curse. But who?

What about Philippe? He hadn't seen him since Belle introduced him. It wouldn't hurt to talk to him, he had vented to Jean in the past.

"Tell Belle I'm stealing her horse for a bit. I'm sure she won't mind." He instructed. "And make sure you use those exact words too, hopefully she'll get a laugh out of it."

And with that, he walked away and left through the front door. He descended the stairs in front of the castle and headed inside the stables.

Philippe was in Jean's old horse box. He was munching on a hanging basket full of hay when Beast entered and walked up to him. The horse pulled some strands of hay out and chewed on them as he stared Beast down.

"Hello, Philippe. Remember me?" He asked.

Philippe plodded over and put his head over the door to the horse box, giving Beast's arm a nudge. He smiled and stroked Philippe's nose. "You're right, that was a silly question. How could you forget a face like mine?"

Philippe swallowed the remaining hay he had in his mouth and sniffed at his jacket, trying to poke his nostrils into his pockets. "Whoa, easy boy." Beast told him, pushing his head away. "I don't have anything for you."

Philippe looked saddened by this information. "Don't worry, I'll bring you a carrot next time." He promised, giving his nose another stroke. Phillipe's eyes lit up at the mention of a carrot.

He patted Philippe's neck with his other paw. "Would you like to come for a walk with me? Stretch your legs?" He asked him.

Philippe bobbed his head up and down, which Beast believed was him nodding. "Yeah, I agree, you can't stay cooped up in this stall all day." He replied, taking the latch off the door and opening it up. Philippe immediately walked out of the stable, leaving him to close the door, before quickly following after him.

It didn't take long to catch up with the horse, as he was only outside by the steps. "Philippe, when I asked you if you wanted to walk with me, I didn't say you could wander off."

Philippe just turned his head to look at Beast, and then shook himself. He rolled his eyes at him "Come on, let's go you." He told Philippe, taking a few steps in front of him. "I could show you the frozen lake, Belle seemed to like that."

Philippe started to walk off in the complete opposite direction as him. "Or we could go wherever you feel like." Beast muttered, quickening his walking pace to catch up with Philippe again. "You want to see the fountains, huh? Alright, we'll walk there and back."

Philippe had rather big strides, so Beast had to match them to remain at his side. It was a rather easy task. Philippe bowed his head as they walked through the snow, while Beast placed his paw on his neck and ran his fingers through the horse's mane. "You know, Philippe, I've been thinking about Belle a lot lately. I can't get her out of my mind."

Philippe didn't make a sound. His ear just twitched. "There's something about her, she's just... It's beyond words. Whenever I see her, whenever I'm around her, I can feel my heart beating so fast, like it's going to burst out of my chest and leap up into my throat. I get butterflies in my stomach, it's like its being tied in knots, and when I'm talking to her I can hardly speak. And when I'm with her... I'm not afraid. I'm not scared of what's going to happen to me, all of my fears and worries just... Melt away, and I actually feel happy." He vented to him. "Isn't that crazy?"

Philippe bobbed his head up and down again. "I haven't felt like this towards anyone before. What would you even call it?"

Philippe let out a small neigh. "You're right, I shouldn't expect you to know the answer to that. You've probably never experienced this kind of feeling before. After all... You're a horse." Beast responded. "I'm talking to a horse..." He muttered, realising just how stupid of an idea this was. At least no one could see him acting like a fool.

Philippe let out what resembled a grunt and flicked his head up, which Beast took as him being offended. "Not that there's anything wrong with being a horse. I find it easier to talk to you than the others. Plus I don't have to worry about you giving me some advice on how to woe Belle. You don't care about any of that, all you care about is getting fresh hay and water. I'd rather be a horse than this... Thing. I'd rather be anything else, really."

Beast sighed "There are a lot of people counting on me, Philippe. I don't want to let them down. But I don't want to force Belle into loving me, nor force myself into loving her."

They stopped beside the fountains, and Philippe approached the frozen water and licked the ice. "Be careful, you might get your tongue stuck." Beast warned him.

The horse tossed his head back and pawed at the ground with his hoof. "Why are you even trying to drink that water? You have a bucket of water in the stable."

Philippe seemingly lost interest and turned to walk back in the direction they came. "Oh you want to go back now? Fair enough."

Beast quickened his pace again and got in front of Philippe. "Has she said anything to you about me, Philippe? Anything at all?" He asked him, staring directly into his eyes and stroking his nose. "Do you know how she feels about me?"

Philippe shook himself and snorted. "No? I thought she might have said something, as she wouldn't have to worry about you telling anyone."

The horse walked round him and continued heading back towards the stables. Beast followed. "I want to do something special for her, but I'm not sure what. If I had known she would have loved the library so much, I would have made a bigger deal out of it." He muttered. "Do you have any ideas, Philippe? You must have some sort of suggestion. You've known her a lot longer than I have."

Philippe paused and turned his head. Beast raised an eyebrow at him and then followed the horse's gaze to see that he was looking at the rose garden. "You think I should get her a rose? ... What a good idea! She loves roses."

Philippe neighed in response and walked over to the stables. Beast hurried over and let him back into his stall. "You're a really good listener." He told him, stroking his face. "Thanks for the help, Philippe. I'll make sure to bring you that carrot I promised you as a reward."

Beast turned and left the stables, heading over to the rose garden. The flower Belle's father had picked was still lying in the snow, looking surprisingly healthy despite the fact it had been plucked from the stalk. He stared at it for a moment, before picking it up and brushing off the frost and snowflakes that covered it. This simple flower had allowed them to meet, that had brought them together.

He'd give Belle the flower her father never got the chance to give to her.

Beast walked back up to the castle, holding the rose close to his chest. He pushed the front door open and headed inside, shutting it behind him.

To his surprise, he found Belle waiting for him by the fire. She was adoring a red dress again, she seemed to have grown fond of that one, and also had her hair tied up in a messy bunch on top of her head. She probably did that to keep it out of her face while she was working. She also had what looked like a cloth tied around her belt, which was probably being used for the purpose of polishing something in the ballroom. As soon as she saw him, she pushed herself off the wall she had been leaning against and crossed the room to join him beside the door.

"I thought you were working on the ballroom." He said.

"I decided to take a break after working on it non-stop." She responded.

She glanced at the rose he was holding. He glanced down at it too, and then held it out to her. "I uh... I got you this."

"Oh, thank you. It's lovely." She said gratefully, accepting the white rose. "I'll make sure to put it in a vase and then put it on display somewhere in my room."

"You never did get that rose you wanted." He murmured.

"That's very thoughtful of you." She commented. "I thought you hated roses, though."

"I actually used to like them quite a bit." He replied. "Besides, I don't really have a reason to hate all of them, just one in particular. And a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

He felt quite proud of himself for quoting Romeo and Juliet. Although it did feel a little shoehorned in. He would have to work on it.

She chuckled. "You really are starting to warm up to that play, aren't you?"

"Little by little." He replied. "Oh, and you left this at the dinner table." He added, retrieving the book from his inside pocket.

"I wondered where that went." She responded, taking the book from him. "Thanks for looking after it for me."

"You're welcome."

The two were quiet for a moment. Belle slid the book into her pouch and then gave the rose a sniff, taking in the scent. She smiled and looked up at him. "I saw you talking to Philippe."

A wave of embarrassment washed over him. "You did?"

"Yes. I was cleaning the windows when I saw you walking and talking with him." She replied. "It looked like you were having an actual conversation."

Beast rubbed his neck. "Well, we sort of were, in a way."

"You mean you can understand him?" She questioned, a spark of curiosity in her eyes.

"It's complicated really. The noises he makes doesn't sound like words to me, or a coherent sentence, but I can gather what he's trying to say, through his body language." He explained. "I don't really understand it myself."

"I've always wondered what it would be like if I was able to understand him. My father's had him ever since I was a little girl. I used to pretend that I knew what he was saying all the time." She smiled widely at the memory.

"Maybe I could help translate what he's trying to say for you some time." Beast suggested.

Belle smiled. "I'd like that."

He smiled back at her.

"You said the other day that you'd help me pick out some good books. Can I still take you up on that offer?" She asked.

"Of course. I'd be happy to help." He replied.

"Maybe we'll find that favourite book of yours I've yet to see."

The two headed over to the library and Belle started taking books off the shelves, putting some back occasionally, but giving them to him. She would read some of the names to him, and he would recommend either giving it to him or putting it back.

He didn't realised until it was too late that she needed him to carry all of the books she was taking off the shelves. At first, he didn't mind, it was easy carrying them, but she kept piling them on, until the books were up to his face. At this point, his arms were starting to ache, and he felt like he would drop the books at any moment.

Belle climbed one of the ladders and took another book off the shelf and put it on top of the pile he was carrying. He leaned back a bit, to stop the books from tipping forwards and sliding off.

One of the tables moved over so that he wouldn't have to tread very far, and he placed the book down, giving the table a thankful nod and breathing a sigh of relief. His arms felt like they were going to drop off.

Belle came over and they started looking through the pile, sorting through to find ones that should be her top priority to read and others that she could dedicate her time to later.

As they looked through them, Beast caught sight of the servants staring at them on the other side of the room. They were talking amongst themselves, spying on them again, assessing how he was getting on with her.

He didn't focus too much on them. He was too absorbed in the task at hand.

Beast was happy to be in Belle's company again. He found it difficult to keep away from her. He just wished he knew how she felt about him.

She glanced up at him, showing him another book she had picked out. He zoned out for a moment, her voice registered in his mind, but he was more focused on the parting of her lips, the brief glimpses of her white teeth, her slightly sun-kissed skin, and her bright brown eyes.

What secrets were hidden behind those brown orbs, that she didn't dare to share with anyone?

Maybe one day he'd find out. Just not today.

* * *

 **A/N - Hello everyone. This is rather excellent timing, as I didn't plan the schedule to fall on this day, but... This is going up on my birthday. I've been on this earth for 18 years. Crazy, huh? I've been writing stories ever since I got my first laptop when I was 10. I like to think that I've improved over the years! I'm sure my younger self would have loved to have read this story, if it existed way back then.**

 **Anyway, about this chapter, I thought it would be good for Beast to share his feelings and thoughts with Philippe, as the stuff he is telling him doesn't feel like it's burden, that it won't weigh heavily on Philippe, as he is a horse. It was difficult, writing a one-sided conversation, as well as giving Philippe various reactions, as his body language has different meanings, therefore he couldn't do the same thing over and over. As for Belle and the colour coding of her dress, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I've been keeping her in the red one, because although in the remake she switches between the red one and her signature blue one, in the original 1991 version she wore her red dress (which also looked slightly pink) for a while, and stopped wearing the signature blue one at the castle after the wolf attack, and only starts wearing it again when she leaves. Little details like that are important to me.**


	27. Chapter 26 - Remnants of Her Past

**Chapter 26 - Remnants of Her Past**

Another day had passed. Belle was still working on the ballroom, but she had spent a considerable amount of time with Beast yesterday sorting through all those books they had collected together.

Beast wasn't sure how much progress she had made on the ballroom, but he was sure he'd find out soon enough. It seemed like she wasn't far off completing it. Perhaps she was just adding some finishing touches.

While Belle was busy, Beast took it upon himself to search through the library to find the book he deeply treasured, and had been promising to read to Belle for the last couple of days. Truth be told, he had never planned on actually reading it to her, as he didn't want her to know he was fond of a novel that had quite a bit of romance in it.

It took quite a bit of searching but eventually he found it hidden on one of the far shelves. Someone had put it with some non-fiction books. That was probably his father's doing, hiding it in the section he wouldn't think to look in.

Guinevere and Lancelot, or better known as King Arthur and the Round Table. His mother's favourite book, as well as his own. He hadn't laid eyes on it in years.

He decided to give it a read, as the temptation was just too strong. He wanted to rekindle his love for it. And then afterwards he'd figure out what book he would masquerade as his favourite, as he doubted Belle would ever stop asking him about it.

He hugged the book close to his chest and snuck outside without anyone noticing. He thought that was quite a feat, slipping passed everyone. He wasn't exactly easy to miss.

He wanted to read and enjoy his book somewhere secluded and quiet, where no one would bother or interrupt him. He decided that he would read it in his mother's rose garden, so that he could feel closer to her there whilst he read.

Beast trudged through the snow and settled down on the stone bench. The air was cold, and the sun was nearing the edge of the sky as it approached sunset. But he wasn't too aware of what was going on around him, he was too focused on the book. He opened it up to the first page and began to read.

He was about half-way through when a voice broke the quiet atmosphere. "What are you reading?"

It was Belle. He had been so engrossed in his book he hadn't even heard her approaching.

He lifted his head sharply and slammed the book shut, covering the front cover with his paws. "Nothing." He replied. He sounded so suspicious.

Her red dress and cloak fluttered in the light breeze as she walked over, glancing at the book he was failing to hide from her. "Guinevere and Lancelot." She commented, sitting down beside.

"Well, actually... King Arthur and the Round Table... Knights and men and swords and things." He corrected her, trying his best to sound tough.

She hummed in response "Still, it's a romance."

"Alright." He muttered, huffing in defeat.

Belle stared at him for a moment as he avoided her gaze. "Is this your favourite book?" She asked, reaching out and touching it. He kept a firm hold on it for a few seconds, but then let go, and allowed her to take a look.

"Yes, it is." He answered truthfully.

She opened it up and looked over the pages. "I don't get it. You stick your tongue out a romances, but you didn't have a problem with Romeo and Juliet when I read it to you, you even quoted it yesterday, and now you're reading this?" She questioned. "Do you hate the genre or not?"

"I-" He began, turning to look at her "I don't hate romance. It's just... When you're forced to do something, you grow to resent it. I've been forced to like romance, to be romantic to... Improve myself." He explained. He couldn't go into too much detail, as he was talking about the curse, and the fact he had to do the one thing he didn't have a clue about. When he was a prince, he treated women like objects, flirted, touched them, kissed them, when there was no love behind it. To win a maiden's heart now, to break the curse, he had to be affectionate, open, caring, and show his sensitive side. The way his father had conditioned him still influenced his thought process, so there was a part of him that disliked these ideals. There was a lingering thought that he shouldn't have to work to be loved.

But that was wrong. That wasn't what love was. That wasn't how it worked. He didn't really know what real love was anymore. He had so many conflicting ideas, beliefs that had been forced upon him.

All he knew was that he needed to be someone worth loving. But he wasn't sure if he was even capable of that.

He supposed he had hated romance for a while not just because he needed to strive to be like the male love interest in the stories he read - which was something he didn't think he would ever accomplish looking the way he did - but also because he was jealous that most of the couples in these stories got a happy ending. And if they didn't, then at least they got to be together, to know and feel love, for as long as they could. Why would he want to read about something he would never get to experience himself?

Where was his happy ending?

"I could never truly hate it. Guinevere and Lancelot has been one of my favourite books ever since I was young. The love they had, the love that you see in these types of stories... Is beautiful." He finished.

Belle smiled and handed the book back to him. "I agree completely." She responded. "Sometimes I wish I knew what that felt like."

Beast's eyes widened, and the two shared a glance. She wanted to know how that felt too? Was there anything else they had in common? The list seemed to be endless.

Beast quickly looked away and hugged the book close to his chest again.

A silence washed over them. Belle was looking at the roses that surrounded them while he stared at the ground, lost in thought. "Something's been bothering me."

"What's that?" Belle asked.

He turned to look at her again. "Why did you save me from the wolves?" He questioned. "You had every right to leave me there. I wouldn't have blamed you if you did. Why didn't you?"

She hesitated before answering. "Because it was the right thing to do. I couldn't leave you there to get mauled to death after you saved me from them. I felt like I owed you for that."

"But why didn't you try to escape again while I was bedridden? You had the perfect opportunity. I couldn't move, the servants were distracted. You could have left as soon as you brought me back here."

"Again, I still owed you for saving my life. I couldn't just dump you on the doorstep and leave. No one else could have treated your wounds. I wanted to make sure you fully healed... And I'm still here because I want to help the servants." She explained. "I still want to help you."

He was touched by that. He didn't think he was worth helping, or even worth saving. What did she see in him? Could she really see passed his hideous appearance? Could she really see the good that was hidden deep within his soul?

"Besides... There's still a life sentence I need to live out." She muttered.

She had accepted her punishment? The punishment he hardly believed in anymore? That was... Very noble of her. "What about you? Why did you run all that way just to save me?" She asked.

"Because I wanted to apologise for what I did. I wanted to make sure that you were safe. If something had happened to you... It would have been all my fault... I would have never forgiven myself." He replied, his brow becoming knitted with sorrow and guilt.

"Well, you got there just in time. I'm still here thanks to you." Belle told him comfortingly.

"And so am I." Beast responded.

There was a loud crash that came from the kitchen, followed by roars of laughter. Beast craned his neck to look in that direction. "No, that's too fast!" He heard Mrs Potts cry. She was probably worried about Chip rolling around on his saucer, and wanted him to slow down.

"They know how to have a good time." Belle commented.

He turned back to her "Yes, but when I enter the room laughter dies." He responded. He then lowered his head for a moment and sighed. Even though he hadn't had any outburst as of late, he was still seen as a kill joy. Over time, the servants had gotten used to his temper and depressing mood, so they didn't want to act too happy around him when he was absolutely miserable, in fear that he might shut them down. When the servants were enjoying themselves, he always ended up ruining it in some way, even by his mere presence, so he just stayed out of their way most of the time.

"Me too." Belle said simply.

Beast snapped his head back up and gave her a confused look. How could someone like her ever dampen the mood?

"The villagers aren't too fond of me, as you already know. They say that I'm a 'funny girl', but I don't think they mean it as a compliment." She explained.

He furrowed his brow. She was anything but a 'funny girl'. She was a talented girl, a clever girl, a brilliant girl... He could go on. "I'm sorry." He sympathised with her. "Still, it could be worse... At least you don't have horns growing out of your head."

She chuckled. "That's true. I think they would do a little more than just call me names at that point. Gaston would probably want to stuff and mount me on the wall. But that sounds a little better than how he normally treats me."

"Who's Gaston?" He questioned.

"The village saviour. He fought in a war around ten years ago, when he was seventeen I think, and has thought of himself as a hero ever since. He likes to live in the past... But recently he's been trying to find himself a wife, and he thought I was the perfect candidate." She told him.

Beast tried his best to stop himself from looking horrified. A war hero had his eyes set on her? Did she reciprocate his feelings? Was she already engaged? "He proposed to you?"

"Sort of. I think he was trying to lead up to that, but I stopped him before he could. I'm just not interested in him... All he seems to care about is himself and... I just don't want to end up as someone's housewife. Especially not his." She replied. "There's so much more that I want to do with my life."

Gaston sounded a lot like him, back when he was human. It was a good thing she hadn't met him before the curse, or she would have found him just as insufferable. "How did he take being turned down?"

"I'm not sure. I didn't see him after that... But knowing him I doubt he took it very well."

"Does he call you things too, like the other villages?"

"No, but he doesn't exactly put a stop to it either. He's just as bad as the others." She answered. It was clear that she didn't like this 'Gaston' one bit. There was probably a whole lot more she could say about him, but was refraining from doing so. Perhaps she didn't want to talk too badly about him, or anyone else for that matter, even though it sounded like they gave her no reason to hold back. Maybe she didn't want to lower herself to their level.

"How often do the other villages call you that?" He asked.

"Pretty much every time I step out of the house. They always talk about me, even when I'm in earshot, almost like they want me to hear them. They say that I'm odd, or peculiar, or not well." She told him.

"All because you know how to read and have inventive ideas?" He questioned.

She nodded in response.

Beast was stunned. If that's how the village reacted to a girl who simply knew how to read, then who knows what they would think of him. He was starting to feel thankful for being erased from everyone's memory.

Even still, despite Belle's awful situation back home, at the very least it was nice to know that she understood what it was like to be an outcast. She may not have been through what he had... And frankly he'd never want another human being to experience what he had... But he could feel like she could relate.

Perhaps these two outcasts could band together.

"Your village sounds terrible." He commented.

"Almost as lonely as your castle." She replied.

And then an idea popped into his head. Something special he could do for Belle. He could show her the enchanted book, and take her anywhere she wanted to go. "What do you say we runaway? Leave all of that awful stuff behind?" He suggested.

Belle looked at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Come on, I'll show you." He replied, beckoning her to stand up. "There's something in the library you haven't seen yet."

Belle got up, and followed him back to the castle. Once they were indoors, she removed her cloak and hung it up, before going into the library with him.

They walked over to the fire place and paused beside a table that had a book rest on it, as well as a couple of maps. "Wait right there." Beast instructed, before eagerly hurrying off to find the book.

It would seem that he had hidden it quite well after the disaster that was the last time he had used it. Even he couldn't find it.

His search finally ended after checking several rows multiple times, before coming across it by chance. He pulled it off the shelf and carried it over to Belle, who had been patiently waiting the entire time.

"This is a little gift the Enchantress left me." Beast told her, as she drew closer to get a better look. "The book that truly allows you to escape." He unlatched the book and opened it up, and then blew off the thick layer of dust that covered the pages.

He then propped it up on the book stand and moved out of the way so that Belle could see it for herself. She stared at map of the world that was illustrated on the pages - as well as the magic that seemed to be just pouring out of the cracks - in awe and wonder. "Amazing." She murmured breathlessly, overcome by shock.

"It was her cruellest trick of all." Beast muttered. "It's just another curse. The outside world has no place for a creature like me." He stated. "But it can for you."

He offered her his paw. She hesitated for a moment, and he assumed she didn't know what he was doing. Or maybe she was just uncomfortable by this advancement. He smiled warmly and gave her a reassuring nod as he took hold of her hand. She didn't protest. He held it with extreme care, as he didn't want to scratch her with his claws by accident, and guided her hand over to the page.

"Think of the one place you've always wanted to see," He told her, as he placed her hand on the crevice of the book, with her finger tips touching the golden line that he always assumed had been pure magic. "And find it in your mind's eye," He added, pushing her hand against the book, his paw completely covering it before he took it away. "And feel it in your heart."

The library, and the suffocating castle walls faded, and were replaced by rotten, wooden walls, that were much closer, making the whole room feel rather cramped.

Beast glanced around, hearing a scraping sound above him. He looked up, and grimaced when he realised the tips of his horns had been scraping against the low ceiling. He would have to make sure to duck down and slouch even more than he usually did.

He bent his knees a little and looked around again, noticing that they were inside some sort of attic, although it was hard to make out as the room was so dark, and his eyes needed time to adjust after being in such a brightly candlelit room. There was a creaking sound coming from somewhere, but he was having trouble finding the source. In fact, the whole rotting building seemed to tremble just by a mere gust of wind.

His eyes had adjusted now, so he could take in his surroundings. The attic was covered in dust and cobwebs, littered with pieces of paper and disarranged furniture. There was an easel in the corner, but it wasn't supporting a canvas. There was also an unmade bed built into the wall.

He glanced at Belle, who was also examining the room. When he said that they should runaway, taking a trip to some building that was ready to collapse wasn't what he had in mind. He was thinking somewhere more exotic, like Spain.

"Where did you take us?" He asked.

"Paris." She responded, her voice quiet and wavering off.

Oh. Well that was much better. It was still an odd location to start off in, but it wasn't an issue. "I love Paris." He stated, walking over to the window, and being mindful of the ceiling as he went. He stared out at the city, and at the rows of houses that stretched off into the distance, as well of the silhouettes of large, unmistakable landmarks. "I've been here quite a few times, perhaps I can give you a tour." He suggested.

He had also found the source of the creaking. It was the four rotating sails attached to the house. They were in a windmill.

He could also see the bright, twinkling stars in the dark blue sky, and the silver moon that was peeking out behind a few clouds. He couldn't quite believe it was night-time. He hadn't been paying much attention to what time of day it was in the slightest. But this was a good thing, he could use the cover of darkness to his advantage and he and Belle could walk through the city unseen.

"What would you like to see first, Notre Dame, the Champs-Élysées...?" He turned away from the window to look at her, but he was met with a blank expression. "No? Too touristy?"

She didn't answer.

He turned back to the window and admired the city from afar, behind the pane of glass. "I never pictured it being this small..." He heard Belle mutter behind him.

The floorboards creaked as she moved across the attic, and he saw her pick something up out of the corner of his eye.

And then she did something he never would have expected. She started to sing.

"This is the Paris of my childhood, these were the borders of my life..."

Her voice was angelic as she was.

"In this crumbling dusty attic, where an artist loved his wife..."

Beast turned away from the window at the mention of what he could only presume was Belle's mother and father. He watched her silently, a saddened expression crossing his face as she moved across the room towards the bed.

This was her home. Her past. A part of her life. All contained within one room.

"Easy to remember, harder to move on..."

Belle bent down and picked up what looked like a baby rattle, that had a red rose on the end. She grasped it tightly in her hand as her voice cracked. "Knowing the Paris of my childhood... Is gone..."

She sat down on the bed, tears welling up in her eyes. Beast walked across the room, treading carefully through such a sacred place. It was essentially part of her. He knew how important pieces of your childhood could be.

He finally plucked up the courage to ask Belle about her mother. He'd just be very careful and not push her too far. If she didn't want to talk about it, then she didn't have to.

"What happened to your mother?" He asked, after giving the room another quick sweep with his eyes.

"It was the one story Papa could never tell. I knew better not to ask." She replied.

She didn't know? That was... Heart-breaking.

Beast glanced down and he felt his heart sink when he lay eyes on a clue that might give Belle the answer she must have been looking for all her life.

Belle got up from the bed and he carefully picked up the item in his paws. "A doctor's mask..." He murmured aloud, turning to look at her. She was on the verge of tears.

"Plague." He told her.

She must have already been thinking it.

Belle turned away for a moment as Beast put the mask back where he found it. He looked over at her again, and noticed that she was shaking.

He tried to give her some words of comfort but his voice got caught in his throat, leaving him speechless.

He heard her choke up. She turned round and knelt beside a crib. Her old crib. She put her hand in and grasped the white, soft blankets as she cried, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.

Beast stared silently for a moment, unsure of what to do. Seeing her so upset... It was killing him.

But what could he do? What could a monster like him possibly say or do to make any of this better?

Maybe he should just leave her be, give her some time to grieve.

He shook his head. No, she needed someone. She needed him.

He slowly walked over to her and crouched down beside her. For the first time, he was level with her. He was no longer towering over her. Not only that, but he knew what she was going through. He knew everything she was feeling, and more.

They were the same.

He lifted his arm and cupped her other hand in his paw. There was no horse she wanted to help him stroke, no book to guide her to. Not this time.

He just wanted to hold her hand.

He wanted to be there for her.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and ran his thumb across her skin soothingly.

She looked away from the crib and met his gaze, her cheeks wet and stained with tears. Her soft brown eyes were red and puffy.

He gave her hand another squeeze. "I'm sorry... For everything." He whispered. "I'm sorry that you never got to meet her, I'm sorry that she never got to see you grow up."

Belle glanced down at her hand that was enveloped in his large paw. "But most of all..."

She looked back at him again. "I'm sorry I ever called your father a thief, when all he ever wanted was to make his daughter happy."

"Let's go home." She whispered, her voice hoarse.

Beast gave her a comforting smile and put his other paw around her hand. "It's going to be alright. You'll see. You're not alone."

* * *

 **A/N - Thanks for the birthday wishes and kind reviews on Friday.**

 **To answer your question, Cress, about writing a possible sequel... I have considered it. I want to write an alternate ending and a mini story that follows after that alternate ending at some point. But a sequel after the curse is broken? I'd definitely do it if I ever come up with a solid story idea.**

 **This chapter was one of my favourites to write. I liked developing a full conversation between Beast and Belle, as well as the comforting manner Beast shows towards her when they go to Paris. I also felt like Belle needed to mention who Gaston is, so that Beast knows a bit about him, as well as her life at the village, which gives Beast a better understanding of what's going on in a later chapter.**


	28. Chapter 27 - Equally Hurting Inside

**Chapter 27 - Equally Hurting Inside**

Home.

That's how she referred to it. Home. The word seemed foreign to him, especially when using it to describe his castle. For the longest time, whilst being stuck in his beast form, it had felt more like a prison than a home. There was nowhere else in the world that he could go where he wouldn't be deemed a monster. Even though he was ensuring his safety by remaining there, he still felt trapped, both in his mind and body.

And yet she called it home. His prison, the place where he was constantly reminded of what he was and had no means of escaping it. Her prison, where she was being kept against her will. There was no sugar coating that, even if they had bonded over time. They were both prisoners. But if she thought of it as home in some light then... Maybe he could too.

Beast and Belle found themselves in the library once more. After being in that cramped attic of the windmill which had been Belle's childhood home, the castle felt even larger than it had before. The attic had been small for him, as he was rather tall and big, in fact he had almost banged his head on the ceiling a few times, not to mention his horns had scrapped against it at least once. He couldn't imagine how hard it must have been for a family of three to live there when he could barely fit inside. It made him appreciate what he had more.

But that didn't matter now. What truly mattered was how Belle felt. Mere moments ago she had learnt of her mother's death, and he wanted to be there to comfort her, in any way he could. He glanced down at her, only to realise that he was still holding her hand, while her other hand was still touching the enchanted book. She removed her hand from the book and pulled away from him. Her hand slipped through his fingers as she turned and moved away. He saw more tears glistening in his eyes as she spun around.

She put her hand to her mouth, to stop herself from choking out a sob. He watched her silently as she trembled and shook. He slowly approached her, taking light, careful steps, as to not scare her. He lifted his paw and reached out to touch her, but hesitated briefly. He was still unsure if he would be any help, or if he would just make it worse. After all, what support could he really offer, what comfort would she be able to find in him when he looked like a monster?

Beast started to lower his arm, but stopped himself and pushed his feelings of doubt to the back of his mind. She was used to him now, she wasn't afraid anymore. He gently placed his paw on Belle's shoulder, though he did not realise until he made contact that his paw would cover the majority of it and that his fingers would spill over onto her upper arm, making the whole gesture seem rather sloppy. He cursed his wretched body.

He considered giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze, but decided not to, as he feared he would end up digging his claws into her flesh by mistake. "I'm sorry about what happened to your mother." He said in the most comforting tone he could muster with the low growl that erupted from his throat and his usual booming voice. "If I had known that you would have seen that, I wouldn't have suggested using the book. I'm sorry you had to find out like that."

Belle sniffled softly and moved her hand away from her mouth. She turned slightly in order to face him, but his paw still remained on her shoulder. "No, I'm glad you showed it to me. I've waited so long to learn the truth about her." She responded. "For so long, I thought it was somehow my fault, that I had caused it, and that's why Papa was always so quiet about it. That she might have died giving birth to me, but now I know... That it wasn't down to me. Now I finally understand why Papa kept it from me, he only wanted it what was best for me, to protect me." She pulled the baby rattle out from behind her back and held it up to him. "You made all of this possible, you held the key to my past. I have to thank you for that."

Beast gave her a ghost of a smile "...You're welcome" He replied, though he was uncertain if he should be saying that. He wasn't really sure what to say in this situation, as he wasn't normally a comforter. He hoped that he was coming off as sincere.

She let out a shaky sigh, tucking the baby rattle into her pouch for safe keeping "I just wish I had been able to get to know her... I wish she could have been apart of my life."

"I wish my mother was here too... Maybe if she was things would have turned out differently." He murmured. He thought that the best way to comfort her would be to show her that he understood what she was going through, that she wasn't alone in her suffering. It was about time he shared it to her, as he had been holding back on telling her about his mother for a while. "She died when I was very young. But the servants must have already told you about that." He wasn't assuming, he knew. He hadn't been asleep when they were discussing the curse and his parents a few days earlier, after the wolf attack.

Belle nodded silently.

"I thought they might have. My personal business isn't exactly private with them."

"They didn't mean any harm by it. They just wanted me to understand why you are the way you are. They all have your best interests in mind, and they all really care about you." She told him.

"I know they do. I'd just prefer it if they wouldn't talk about me like that when I'm in the same room."

"You were awake." She muttered. He assumed that she was remembering the same event he was thinking of.

"No one falls asleep that quickly." He replied wittily.

She smiled at his dry sense of humour, but that smile quickly faded. She was quiet for a moment, like she was holding back on saying something. She avoided making eye contact as she spoke up "How did your mother die?" That was not an easy question to ask.

Beast let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyelids briefly. "She was gravely ill." He replied, opening his eyes once more and looking at her directly "With what I'm not entirely sure. My father refused to go into detail. The less I knew the better, so that I wouldn't kick up a fuss." He explained. He paused for a moment "I didn't even get to say goodbye."

Belle gave him a sorrowful look as he continued "I was only a boy when I lost her. She was so fragile, so pale in her final days. I still had hope that she would recover, that she'd pull through somehow. I wanted to be by her side for as long as possible but... My father carted me away before she had passed. He took me to his country estate, away from my mother, away from the servants, isolating me so that he could mould me into the son he wanted me to be. To be just like him."

He left out the detail that he was a prince and that his father had wanted to train him up for the day when he'd eventually become King. One reason for doing so was that he didn't feel much like a prince, not when he was a beast. He didn't think he was worthy of that title, not in the current state he was in. He hadn't even thought of calling himself by his own name in a long time, as he didn't think he was worthy of that either.

His other reason was that he couldn't let Belle know who he truly was. If she were to break the curse, which he highly doubted as he had lost hope a long time ago, she would have to love him for who he was, not the idea of falling in love with a prince.

"By the time I returned, she was dead and buried. My father never took me to see her grave. I wasn't even allowed to mourn her death. That showed weakness, something he didn't want me to have. Once we came back here, the servants weren't allowed to speak to me unless it was for trivial things. I had no one to confine in, no one to comfort me. The only person I could talk to was my father, but I couldn't bring up my mother around him. It was almost as if he wanted me to pretend that she never existed. So I had no choice but to do what was expected of me. And after years of being disciplined by my father, being taught how to do everything his way... He got what he wanted. I turned out just like him." He finished.

Beast felt ashamed. He still often wondered what had happened to that innocent boy that he had once been. Was there anything left of the person he could have been? Or had that person been smothered by his controlling father? He looked down at his paw for a moment and an image of his own monstrous face flashed through his mind. Was this creature the result of everything his father had done? Was this what his father had wanted? Or was he just a failure of a prince, as a human being, as well as a son? He remembered his father calling him a failure countless times, amongst other things. Weak, pathetic... The list was endless. It hurt to think about it.

He was snapped out of his trance when he felt something touch his paw. His bright blue eyes landed on Belle's hand, which was now placed on top of the paw that was still resting on her shoulder. Her touch was soft, comforting. She had touched his paw before, when helping him get to know Philippe, but this... This was different. It was special. He couldn't remember the last time someone had made physical contact with him in this way, even before he had been a beast.

Belle gently ran her thumb along the fur on the back of his paw "Your father sounds like a cruel man. But you... You're nothing like him. He's not here anymore, so what does it matter. You should be allowed to be who you are, not who you're father wanted you to be. You should be allowed to grieve."

Her words touched him on so many levels. She didn't know anything about his father apart from what he had just told her... And yet she made a judgement, she saw something in him, something good, something better than what he thought he was.

"I've had time to grieve. There isn't much else you can do when you're alone in a place like this. I stay out of the servants way as... Well, I'm just a walking reminder of their failures. They feel like they failed me and my mother by allowing my father to do what he did, when there wasn't much they could do anyway. So I've had a lot of time by myself to think about her and make up for all those years when I wasn't allowed to mourn."

He came to the sudden realisation that he had turned the conversation about Belle's mother into a conversation about himself. He had opened up to her and in turn taken away from the time she had needed to think about what she had learned. "I'm so sorry, Belle, I didn't mean to make this conversation all about me, I just wanted to make you feel better and-"

"It's fine." She cut him off "Really, it's fine. It was good not to think about it for a while and- well, this is the first time I've been able to learn a bit about you without having to hear it from someone else."

"Well, if you ever want to talk about your mother then, you can always- if you want to that is-"

"I'll speak to you." She finished his sentence for him.

She moved her hand away from his paw and he removed it from her shoulder. He feared that he had left it there too long, the whole situation felt awkward. Belle turned away for a few seconds, as if there was something else she wanted to say. "Can I ask you something?" She questioned. She didn't seem like she wanted to pry too deeply, and whatever it was she wanted to know must have been a touchy subject.

"Of course." He replied without hesitation.

"You haven't always been a beast, have you?" She asked. "You were human once. How long has it been since the curse was put on you?"

Beast took a minute before he answered. Should he tell her about the man he had once been? He didn't exactly associate himself with that person any more. His life before seemed unreal, a distant memory, he had become detached from it. That young, handsome, selfish, uncaring prince that had once stared back at him in the mirror felt more like a ghost to him now, rather than himself.

"I was human once, yes." He finally answered her. "How much time has passed since then I cannot tell you for certain. There's night and day here, but it's always snowing, so I don't know when the seasons change. Last time I checked, it had been around ten years, maybe more. I just know that it's been a very long time. If you asked me to tell you what I looked like before, I don't think I'd be able to. I suppose I've wilfully forgotten what I used to look like, as it wouldn't do me much good to remember. I've tried to avoid looking at myself, but sometimes that can't be helped. I've caught glimpses of my reflection, of what I look like now... Sometimes I see myself in your eyes."

He quickly realised that he had admitted to staring into her eyes. He scolded himself for being such an idiot. He hoped she wouldn't think about that sentence too hard and continued "I've had long hard looks before too, to try and find some sort of resemblance to my former self but I've never been able to find one, except maybe my eyes. After a while, when I think of myself, the image in my head... Is that of the monster you see before you."

"You're not a monster." Belle stated. She sounded like she meant it.

"I wish that were true but... I am. Sometimes I wonder what my mother would think if she were here now, if she saw me like this. She'd be so disappointed. My father too."

Why did he still care what his father thought of him? Perhaps after constantly seeking approval and praise from him, he just couldn't help feeling insecure about what his father thought, even if he was long gone.

"You shouldn't torture yourself about it. I don't exactly know what happened for the enchantress to curse you but... Well, I think the person your father made you into is what got you into this mess."

"I'm not blameless. My father wasn't there that day, he wasn't there for a long time. I could have chosen to be different, I could have chosen to ignore everything he taught me but I didn't. I became something much worse than him and because of that... The enchantress saw everything that was corrupt, and cruel, and twisted about me and changed my appearance to match the ugliness within me." He explained.

"I didn't say it wasn't your fault. But that's in the past now, you're not like that anymore. There's something good and kind within you, I've seen that. You shouldn't hide it and act like the beast that everyone sees you as." Belle replied.

"I've tried, but it's so hard. I can barely remember what it feels like to be human, and when I look like this-" he proceeded to gesture at himself "-I wonder what's the point of trying to be anything else. Because this is all I am, this is what I've become... A beast."

"There's more to you than just being a beast." She responded.

He was touched. She really believed every word that she breathed, and she wanted him to believe it too. Knowing that she could see passed his hideous exterior and could see some good, kind nature hidden beneath all that fur filled him with hope. Maybe there was some truth to what Lumiere had being saying about her being 'the one', though he still hated that phrase.

"You'd be one of the first to think that about me." He admitted.

He had thought for a long time that if he ever opened up to her about his mother, that it might have made him feel worse. But in actuality... It felt good. He had finally gotten everything off his chest, and it was just a huge relief. Maybe he should have let her in sooner.

"Well, like I said the other day, after you looked at my drawing of you, you're really not that ugly." She told him. "At first glance, maybe, but once I started to get to know you better, and now that I've gotten to know you as a whole... You're actually quite beautiful." She turned her head away. "At least, that's what I think."

Beast was stunned into silence. He didn't think anyone would ever call him 'beautiful' and yet she had just uttered that word. He had no idea what to say.

Belle smiled at him and how utterly speechless he was. He probably had a really stupid look on his face as he was completely dumbstruck. She reached out to him, taking hold of his large paw in both hands "Come on, I want to show you something." She said, leading him out of the library.

They went at quite a fast pace, almost breaking into a run, as she dragged him over to the ballroom. They paused in front of the closed doors and Belle looked up at him. "Do you want to look at it from here?" She asked him.

He was quiet for a few seconds and then shook his head. "No, let's go in." He responded. Even if he had been reluctant to go in that room before, he felt like he could now, after opening up to Belle about his past. If she was with him, he felt like he could do anything. Belle took one hand off his paw and pushed the doors open. He was completely awestruck by what he saw as soon as they entered.

The once dark, deserted, run down ballroom had been returned to its former glory. The windows were clean and sparkling, allowing moonlight into the room, giving it a bright, silver glow, and bathing every surface in natural light. The chandeliers were hanging from the ceiling instead of resting on floor, and the candles were burning brightly, each tiny flame providing the far corners of the room with light. It looked similar to how it had been since he had last laid eyes on it, perhaps even better.

Beast couldn't remember the last time he had been in the ballroom. He had held a sort of animosity towards that place, as it was the room where he had met the enchantress... Where the curse had been placed on him... Where he had been turned into a beast.

But seeing it now, every inch of it glistening in the moonlight, it reminded him of how much he loved to dance, rather than the painful experience he had gone through.

"Do you like it?" She asked curiously.

"Like it?" He questioned. "I love it!" He exclaimed. "It looks incredible. How did you manage to do all of this?"

She chuckled "Well, I had quite a bit of help from the servants."

"Thank you so much for doing this, Belle." He said gratefully. He walked into the centre of the ballroom, spinning round to get a perfect view of the entire space that surrounded him. "It would be a shame for all of your hard work to go to waste." He commented. "What if... What if we have a dance tonight?" He suggested.

He immediately regretted saying that. Why would she want to dance with him? How foolish did he have to be to think that she would ever-

"I'd love to." She replied.

That caught him off guard. "What did you say?" He questioned. He had heard what she said, he just couldn't quite believe it.

"I said I'd love to. It will be fun."

A wave of anxiousness washed over him. He hadn't danced in years. What if he didn't remember how? What if his body wouldn't allow him to? How could he possibly be elegant and graceful on his feet with paws and claws?

He was also worried about Belle. What if he got his claws caught in her hair, or ripped her dress, or stepped on her toes?

He glanced at Belle, and noticed the massive, beaming smile on her face. And for a moment, his worries were pushed to the back of his mind.

He didn't know if he'd be able to pull it off that night, but he was prepared to try. She always wanted him to try. And he wanted it to be special. He wanted to be able to see her smile like that again. Seeing her full of joy after being at her lowest... That's all he could ask for.

* * *

 **A/N - This chapter is a short fic I wrote a while back with this kind of story in mind. It was a very useful draft and not much needed editing.**

 **Just to clarify, the alternate ending I mentioned in my previous author's note isn't going to happen in this story specifically, but rather at a later date, when I've posted all of the chapters, I'll post a new story that is linked to this one but has a very different starting point due to the ending not being the same as the ending I have already wrote. Basically it'll be a couple of chapters based around a single 'what if' scenario. That's if I actually make it. I was just going on about sequels before. I hope that makes sense.**

 **Let me know what you thought of the chapter in the reviews! I always look forward to reading them.**


	29. Chapter 28 - Tearful Goodbye

**Chapter 28 - Tearful Goodbye**

Beast and Belle left the ballroom and lingered outside in the entrance hall. "How long do you think you'll need to get ready for the dance?" Belle asked him.

"Uh... I'm not really sure, maybe an hour." He replied. "What about you?"

"An hour sounds good to me." She responded. "I think I'll head upstairs and start getting ready. I'll meet you back here later."

"Yes. I'll see you soon."

Belle walked passed him and began to ascend the stairs. She looked over the banister and smiled at him on the way up before she disappeared from sight.

As soon as she was gone, Beast hurried over to the kitchen in search of the servants. He couldn't get ready on his own! He wouldn't even know where to begin. What was he even going to wear? He clearly hadn't thought any of this through.

He was going to need all the help he could get.

The servants were in the middle of a conversation when he burst through the door. Their discussion died, and Lumiere turned to face him. "Oh, there you are, master. We were wondering where you and Belle had gotten often to. Would you like us to put dinner out soon? It's getting rather late."

"Yes. But could you make it a special dinner?" He requested. "And... Could you help me prepare for a dance Belle and I are having tonight?"

The servants' mouths dropped in unison. They were all left utterly speechless by such a sudden advancement.

It took a few seconds before anyone spoke up again. "Of course we'll help you!" Lumiere blurted out, barely able to contain his excitement. "We'll run you a hot bath, so you can get squeaky clean."

"And we'll find you an outfit for you to wear." Mrs Potts chimed in. "I think the seamstresses made one for such an occasion."

"We'll serve the finest food, and ask Maestro Cadenza to perform for you." Cogsworth added.

"Come on everyone, chop chop! There's no time to waste!" Lumiere instructed.

"I'll just... Let Belle know we're having dinner before the dance..." Beast muttered, although no one actually heard him. Or at least, he didn't think they did. He retreated backwards out of the room as the servants set to work.

"Someone fill up the master's bathtub! And make sure you dust off the old makeup kit and set up a mirror in his room!" He heard Lumiere giving orders as he walked away. Their voices became distant as he headed upstairs towards the East Wing.

The door to Belle's room was shut, not wide open like it had been the other day. Staring at the closed door felt very familiar, it was just like it was when he first attempted to gain some sort of affection from her and failed miserably. Only difference was that he was alone this time, with no one to give him words of advice. He stood outside for a moment before knocking.

"Who is it?" Belle called out.

"It's me." He replied.

"Don't come in!" She cried. "I'm not decent!"

"I wasn't going to!" He responded through nervous laughter. He wouldn't dare go in there uninvited, especially if he run the risk of seeing her... Undressed. "I just wanted to let you know that we'll be having a quick meal beforehand."

"Oh good. I'm starving." She stated. "I'll have to be extra careful to not spill anything on my dress."

"I doubt you'll have that problem. It will be me who will have to worry about getting something down my outfit."

"I'm sure you'll be fine."

He heard the clattering of tiny feet behind him, and he looked over his shoulder to see Lumiere running down the corridor. "Master, your bath is ready. You better get in the tub while it's still warm."

"Alright, I'm on my way." He addressed the candlestick, before turning back to the door. "I have to go, I haven't even started getting ready, but I'll see you in a little while."

"If you need any more time, just send someone over to let me know. We don't have to rush." Belle replied.

"I will if it comes to that." Beast responded, before turning and leaving. He followed Lumiere over to the West Wing, and headed into his room. The other servants were there waiting, along with a steaming hot tub, filled with soapy suds. There was also a rope stretched across the room with a sheet thrown over it to act as a temporary screen to give him the privacy he needed whilst he bathed.

"No time for a soak, just a quick wash and then we'll help you prepare." Lumiere told him.

Beast didn't say anything. He decided to just go along with everything they were saying, as he wouldn't be able to handle it on his own. They clearly knew what they were doing.

He walked over to the tub, pulled the sheet across the rope, obscuring the servants' view. He removed his jacket and peeled off his shirt and trousers, and left them discarded on the floor. They were a lot easier to take off than they were to put on, that much was certain.

He climbed into the tub, and the water lapped around his legs, the soap suds starting to cling to his fur. When was the last time he had a bath? When was the last time he had a proper wash?

It quickly dawned on him that he had never cleaned his fur. But that was about to change.

He sunk down into the water, and started to rub his body with some soap he had on hand. The sensation of water on his body, rushing through his fur... It was so relaxing. It allowed him to loosen off and not be as stiff. Why hadn't he done this before?

That question had a simple answer. Because he didn't feel the need to take care of his body when he was trapped in this hideous form.

"That fur really needs a good scrub." Cogsworth commented.

"Are you saying I stink?" Beast questioned, as he picked up a jug and poured water over his head, completely drenching himself. Strands of long fur fell over his eyes, blocking his vision.

"No, not at all!" Cogsworth replied nervously. "I would never say that, nor mean to say that."

Beast almost laughed. Cogsworth was still as nervous as ever, despite the fact that he hadn't yelled at anyone in the last few days. He wasn't even sure if the servants had a sense of smell. Still, he supposed that a couple of days wasn't nearly enough time for them to get over his raging temper.

"So master, what made you decide to ask Belle to have a dance with you?" Lumiere asked, striking up a conversation, and possibly steering attention off of Cogsworth.

He combed the fur away from his eyes and began to rinse off any remaining soap. "Well, she showed me the ballroom, and when I saw it I was just blown away by how beautiful she had made it. I didn't want all of that effort to go to waste... So I said we should have a dance tonight, but I didn't think she'd actually agree to it! What was I thinking?! I can't do this..." He covered his face with his paws and shook his head, as he was filled with nervousness. This was going to be a disaster.

"No, you must not think like that, master. This is perfect! The rose only had four petals left, so tonight you can tell her how you feel." Lumiere replied.

Four petals? Was that all? Where had all of the time gone?

Beast lowered his paws and grabbed hold of the sides of the tub in order to push himself up. He was clean enough, he didn't need to spend any more time in the bath.

Now that he was at his full height, and boosted up by the tub slightly, he could see over the low hanging sheet, and all of the servants looking up at him.

His fur was dripping, his entire body completely wet. But washed. He didn't smell as fresh as a daisy, in fact he smelt mostly of soap, but it was an improvement to the scent of wet dog that always seemed to follow him around. "I feel like a fool. She will never love me." He muttered, before shaking himself off and sending water flying, and splashing a couple of the servants.

Lumiere got a face full of water, and his flames had been put out. He spat out the water and began to relight his candles. "Do not be discouraged. She is the one."

Beast retrieved a towel from Chapeau and began to dry himself off properly. "Maybe she is but... I don't know what to tell her."

"You care for the girl, don't you?" Lumiere asked.

Beast wrapped the towel he had been using around his shoulders and sat down in a chair beside a large mirror the servants had set up, as he had smashed the other ones a long time ago. He stared at himself for a moment, at his thick, brown fur that was now silky and smooth, and fangs that were poking out from his closed mouth, vainly trying to hide his teeth with his lips. His bright blue eyes stared back at him.

His awful appearance didn't have such a traumatic effect on him anymore. He found it hard to believe that he was so used to it now that it hardly bothered him.

He supposed he looked a little better after cleaning his up. Healthier almost. But he doubted there was much else they could do to 'fix' him.

But if Belle found him to be easy on the eyes... Or even 'beautiful'... Then perhaps he could believe it. However, it would have to be the former, not the latter. Besides, when she said that he was 'beautiful', she had been talking more about his personality and what he was like on the inside, that he supposed made him seem a little less ugly and frightening.

That's when he realised he hadn't answered Lumiere's question. Did he care for Belle?

Without a shadow of a doubt.

"More than anything." He replied. She was the most important thing in his life. She was his world. "But she deserves so much more than a beast."

"We all know that there's so much more to you, and she does too. We're going to give her a man, not a beast, just you wait and see." Lumiere told him. "And if you care for her as much as you say - which I do not doubt - then you must woe her with beautiful music and romantic candle light." He then advised.

"Yes, and when the moment's just right..." Plumette flew closer to him and tickled his face with her feathers, whilst giggling.

"But how will I know?" He questioned.

"You will feel slightly nauseous." Cogsworth replied, touching the lower part of his clock body, which was the equivalent of his stomach.

Beast grunted in dismay.

"Don't worry, master, you'll do fine." Lumiere told him reassuringly.

"Just stop being so nervous and tell Belle how you feel." Mrs Potts instructed. "Because if you don't, you will be drinking cold tea for the rest of your days!"

"In the dark." Lumiere chimed in.

"Covered in dust." Plumette added.

"Dark and very, very dusty." Lumiere warned, before clapping his candlesticks together.

Chapeau picked up some scissors and a large brush and set to work on Beast's mane-like fur. "Start with the hair, women love a man that is well groomed!" Lumiere instructed.

"I'll take the fingers and toes." Mrs Potts declared, pouring hot water into Chip.

"Chapeau, brush those teeth, they need it." Cogsworth instructed.

The chair was turned around and Chapeau shoved a tooth brush into Beast's mouth, scrubbing his fangs.

Beast dipped his claws into the hot water as Chapeau brushed and cut his fur. Lumiere jumped on top of his head and began to rub a cloth on his horns in order to make them shine. He then allowed Mrs Potts to polish his claws using steam.

Plumette dipped her feathers in some white makeup powder "Eyes closed." She instructed. That's the only warning he got before she lightly hit him with her tail feathers, smothering his face in powder.

"And for the finishing touch." Lumiere said, hopping off of his head and allowing Chapeau to put Beast's old wig on top of his head.

The chair was turned back around and Beast stared wide eyed at his reflection. The white makeup on his face, and the wig that didn't even fit properly and sat skewwhiff on top of his head, forced between his two horns... It just made him look like a clown.

"Oh, you look so... So... So..." Lumiere was trying to find the right words.

"Stupid." Beast finished for him. He then knocked the wig off his head and wiped the makeup off his face using his arm. "This isn't going to work, we need to try something else."

"Yes, you're right." Lumiere agreed. "Chapeau, take a little more off the top." He instructed.

Chapeau took hold of a large clump of fur and with one snip of the scissors, half of it was gone.

"Hmm, perhaps we could take the long strands of fur and turn it into a pony tail or plat." Lumiere suggested.

Beast pondered over it for a moment and then nodded "Yes, I think that could work."

"Alright, let's set to work everyone, there's still more work to be done! The night is still young!" Lumiere cried, clapping his candlesticks together once more.

* * *

He was ready.

After working tirelessly, throwing ideas back and forth, as well as butting heads, the servants had finally completed Beast's look.

Beast stared at himself in the mirror. His mane like fur had been trimmed and combed back and neatly plated. He was adoring his new, perfectly fashioned ballroom attire, which was a dark blue jacket that ran down to his knees. Underneath the jacket he wore a waistcoat in a matching shade of blue, while his trousers were a slightly lighter shade, with a small hint of grey. The golden buttons on his open jacket had a floral pattern woven around them in gold stitches. This floral pattern was also stitched into his waistcoat and the cuffs of his jacket, which were turned up, revealing the long, white sleeves of his under shirt. To finish off his outfit, he had a frilly white cravat wrapped around his neck.

It reminded him of his old, black ballroom attire, that hadn't survived the transformation. But it was in Belle's favourite colour... Blue. Or at least, that's the colour she said she preferred.

He actually looked... Appealing. He never thought he would use that word to describe himself.

"Oh don't you look smart." Mrs Potts complimented him.

"You look very handsome, master. I'm sure Belle is going to love your outfit, as well as your hair." Lumiere added on.

"You really think so?" Beast asked, looking away from his reflection.

"Absolutely!" Lumiere responded. "Now go on, your lady is waiting." He said, ushering him over to the door.

Beast paused, and stared at his bedroom door. Once he opened it and went out there, there was no turning back. He let out a shaky sigh, as he was trembling a little. "I'm still not sure if I can do this." He stated, turning to the servants, who were all gathered around him, almost like they were trying to box him into a corner. Perhaps that was their intention.

"Of course you can!" Lumiere replied.

"Just remember everything we've said and you'll be fine." Mrs Potts added.

"You can't give up now, not after you've gotten all dressed up." Cogsworth chimed in.

Beast sighed again, his breathing a little less shaky. "Alright." He muttered, turning back to the door. All he had to do was take hold of the handle and pull it open. It was so simple.

He took in a few sharp intakes of breath. "You can do this, you can do this." He whispered quietly to himself. He extended his arm and grabbed hold of the door handle with his paw. His arm was shaking from nerves too.

The quiet atmosphere was weighing heavily on him. He knew the servants were silently egging him on to just open the door and leave, but even that was proving difficult.

He had to do this. For them. For Belle. She wanted this. He couldn't back down now.

He pulled the door open, and a draft whipped up the stairs, blowing through his fur. Just one small step, that's all he had to take, and then he would be out the door.

Followed by several other steps that he had to take in order to actually get down stairs.

He could do this.

He hesitated in the doorway for a moment, gripping the handle of the door so tightly that he nearly broke it off. Everything was going to be fine... He just had to go.

At this rate he was never going to leave his room and face the music.

He wasn't getting any younger. Or older for that matter. But technicalities aside, his thought process was stalling him. He needed to stop thinking about everything that could go wrong, he just needed to stop thinking about it all together.

Beast corrected his arched back and stood tall and proud. He let go of the door handle and stepped out of his room. His mind was screaming at him to run back into his room, lock the door, and never come out again. He ignored it as he began to descend the stairs.

Within no time at all, he had reached the bottom of the stairway. He stood on the landing for a moment, and glanced up at the stairway leading to the East Wing, as he had been staring at the floor for the duration of his walk.

And there she was.

Belle was standing only a short distance away on the other landing. She was wearing a golden yellow ball gown, that was bright as the sun. The cut was off-shoulder, and the fabric around her waist was a slightly darker shade of yellow, and hugged her figure. Passed the basque waist, her full length skirt that extended to the floor had layers upon layers of fabric, in a wave like pattern that flowed all the way round, and to the bottom of the hem. These layers had a shimmering floral pattern stitched into them, similar to that of his clothing.

To go with her dress, she had gold earrings, and her long brown hair was allowed to flow over her shoulders, although some of it had been combed back as well, and tied into a bunch on her head with a gold ribbon.

She looked stunning, radiant, beautiful... He could go on. She was positively glowing in the candlelight, like a shining star.

She looked like an angel. He was starting to think she was one.

Beast was completely blown away. He felt like all the wind had been knocked out of him, he could hardly breathe. She was just... Incredible to look at.

He was so glad that he had gotten to know her beforehand. Her beauty wasn't just skin deep. Everything about her was enchanting.

Belle smiled at him.

Beast smiled back.

Neither of them breathed a word. Nothing needed to be said.

Belle held up her dress as she descended the stairs. Beast mustered up all of his courage and swallowed hard, before descending the flight of stairs that was keeping him from her and they both met in the middle.

Now that he was up close, where he could admire her even more, he could feel his smile growing wider, to the point where he was showing his teeth. His cheeks were stretched to the limit as he beamed with happiness. He was so glad that they could spend this moment together.

He offered her his arm, and she took it, and they both walked down the stairs and entered the dining room. The curtains were shut, blocking out any moonlight, with the only thing illuminating the room being a set of candles laid out of the table.

It was supposed to be mood lighting.

Belle went to her usual seat, and Beast pulled her chair out for her to sit down. He then sat down in the chair beside her, as he didn't want to go back to his old seat.

Chapeau came in and began to play a violin as they settled down to eat.

They had been given some sort of stew. It smelt delicious. It looked like there was chicken in there, and some vegetables.

Belle automatically picked up a spoon and began eating. Beast hesitated for a moment, his eyes sweeping over the cutlery that had been set out for him. He gulped and picked up a spoon in his large paw. Belle paused and watched as he carefully scooped up the stew with the spoon and put it in his mouth, without so much as breaking the spoon or dripping anywhere.

He had actually done it! He had made progress. Belle smiled at his valiant efforts to appear human, and then continued eating.

After a few minutes, they had completely mopped up the stew using their spoons and had eaten some fresh bread that had also been served.

Belle got up and Beast did the same, and together they walked out of the dining room and headed straight for the ballroom, arm in arm.

They passed Mrs Potts on the way, who began singing. It would seem that she was going to be their musical accompaniment. He didn't mind that, in fact he had heard her singing a few times in the past, before the curse. He thought her voice was rather soothing.

 _Tale as old as time, true as it can be_

 _Barely even friends, then somebody bends, unexpectedly_

He heard her voice follow them as they entered the ballroom. He could also hear the trolley wheels rattling. She probably wanted to watch the spectacle along with Chip. It would seem that Lumiere and Cogsworth wanted to do the same, as they were already there waiting, standing on top of Maestro Cadenza as he played.

Beast glanced around at the ballroom. He was still having a hard time taking it all in. Belle had made it look truly and utterly beautiful. It was like taking a trip back into the past.

 _Just a little change, small to say the least._

 _Both a little scared, neither one prepared._

 _Beauty and the Beast_

Beast glanced at Belle, his face completely masked with pure terror. He had no idea what he was doing. He was afraid of doing something wrong, of hurting her in some way.

She could see just how nervous he was as his eyes darted around the room. Were they really doing this?

Belle took hold of both sides of her dress and curtsied to him. She went so low, that she might have touched the floor with her knees.

They were really doing this.

As soon as she came back up, he bowed to his partner. She then offered him her hands, and gave him a reassuring nod.

His eyes became fixated on her face, on her dark brown eyes. His nerves slowly began to fade and he began to feel calm. They were in this together. He didn't have to worry.

He gladly took her hands, and she grasped his paws tightly. As soon as they touched, all of his nerves melted away. He wasn't afraid anymore.

Belle took the lead, moving to the right and carrying his arms with her.

 _Ever just the same_

Beast straightened himself up and copied her and moved in the opposite direction. She smiled warmly at him, and then they switched sides. They then pulled away from one another, maintaining grip on each other's hands, and spun round in a circle.

 _Ever a surprise_

Beast let go of one hand and allowed Belle to do a graceful twirl, her dress swirling beautifully as she did so.

 _Ever as before ever just as sure as the sun will rise_

The two skipped across the dance floor, taking great strides across the room, with Belle turning to face him and cupping her hand around his paw, almost as if their hands were doing a dance of their own.

Belle then took hold of her dress and swung round him, before they met once more, and he took hold of her hand, whilst his other paw was wrapped around her back. They swayed back and forth, waltzing together.

 _Tale as old as time, tune as old as song_

There was a loud chime of different instruments coming from above, violins, trumpets, flutes, all adding to the melody coming from the talking piano. Beast let go of her and allowed her to do another twirl, her dress lifting up slightly as she spun. He joined up with her, and the two did a quick spin simultaneously, before linking up and waltzing across the ballroom, moving round and round in a circle.

 _Bittersweet and strange, finding you can change_

 _Learning you were wrong_

Beast allowed her to do another twirl, before they stopped in the centre of the room, and he pulled her closer to him. She put her hand round the back of his head and he gently dipped her, lowering her towards the floor.

He gazed deeply into those brown orbs of her's, and she stared into his bright blue eyes. He had never removed his gaze off her, not even for a second. He couldn't even if he wanted to.

Belle's hand ran through his mane like fur, and the candlelight around them seemed to dim. He then lifted her up into the air, bringing her body and her face so close to his as they spun round, holding her up with one arm. He had her close to his chest, swearing to himself as well as her that he would not drop her. She was safe in his arms.

Twinkling lights surrounded them, coming from the crystals on the chandeliers. At least, that's what he assumed, he couldn't take it all in, he was too focused on Belle. It was almost like a starry night sky. He slowly lowered her back down, and as soon as her feet touched the ground, he took hold of her hand in his paw.

 _Certain as the sun, rising in the east_

 _Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme_

 _Beauty and the Beast_

They began to waltz across the room again, turning and spinning round each other, still fixated on the other's eyes, while their feet just carried them away. They reached the stairs at the base of the glass doors, and Beast kept hold of her hand as she twirled once again. He wrapped his arm around her waist as they moved round in a circle, her hand on his arm as they spun.

And then they parted, and stood facing one another.

Beast smiled breathlessly, and moved closer to her one last time and offered her his arm, which Belle gladly took.

 _Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme_

 _Beauty and the Beast_

The two shared a glance, before slowly and silently approaching the glass door. It gently swung open as they walked up the stairs, the piano music growing softer as they stepped outside.

Beast and Belle were met by the cold night air that sent a chill down his spine. There was a bench on the balcony, which he allowed Belle to sit down on first. The skirt of her dress swished as she walked round and sat down. She neatly began adjusting it, so that she would be comfortable as he came to sit down beside her. It looked like she was wearing a cloud of gold fabric.

That was... Incredible. He had never experienced anything else like that in his entire life. He may have danced before, but nothing like this. The music, and the ballroom, and Belle... He just lost himself in the moment. Dancing with her had been so effortless, and yet so breath-taking. In fact, he was still trying to catch his breath.

That dance was the pure embodiment of their relationship. He would likely never experience anything like that again.

But despite that he knew this was a once in a life time opportunity... He was so happy he got to share it with her. There was no one else he would rather dance with.

The two stared at the garden for a moment, before Beast spoke up. "I haven't danced in years. I had almost forgotten the feeling."

"I never would have known from how well you performed." Belle responded.

"It all just seemed to come back to me in an instant." He stated.

They fell quiet again. Beast glanced back at the ballroom, and then shuffled a little closer to Belle. Her dressed brushed up against his leg. It was time to tell her how he felt, just like the servants had told him to. But first, he would have to make sure how she felt, before he went any further.

"Belle, I know this sounds foolish, but... Do you think a creature like me could ever manage to earn your affection?" He asked cautiously.

She hesitated for a moment. "I don't know."

Well, it wasn't a yes. But it wasn't a no either. Maybe there was a chance.

His eyes lit up. "Really? Do you think you could be happy here?"

She went quiet again. He stared at her in anticipation. He was also silently willing her to say something, as the silence was starting to kill him.

"I'm not sure. You've given me so much. You gave me the library, you helped me find out what happened to my mother, but... I'm still not free."

He lowered his head sadly. What a stupid question. Of course she couldn't be happy here, not when she was still being kept here against her will. He himself hadn't been happy here for a long, as he too was not free. The only reason he was happy now... Was because Belle had come into his life.

Belle took hold of his paws, catching his attention. "That doesn't mean I don't appreciate your company."

Beast sat in stunned silence and squeezed her hands gently. He didn't realise that his presence had such a massive impact on her. That his kindness made her stay at the castle bearable. He didn't know just how happy he made her feel.

"My father taught me to dance." She stated. "I wasn't very good at first, and even when I started getting better, I always used to step on his toes."

He smiled. It had been the exact opposite with him and his mother. She had encouraged him to stand on her feet, so that when she moved her legs, he would move with her, and he would be able to learn the steps more easily.

His smile faded when he realised the massive hole that had been left in Belle's life due to her father's absence. That no matter what he did, he could not replace him. "You must miss him."

"Very much." She whispered softly.

Beast gave her a saddened expression. He knew that feeling all too well.

Why had he robbed her of the only parent she had left? But what else could he do, how could he allow her to see him? She needed her father, now more than ever, after learning of her mother's death.

And that's when an idea struck. "Would you like to see him?" He asked.

"How?" She questioned.

He quickly stood up. "I'll show you." He replied.

The two left the balcony and hurried over to the West Wing without so much as a word from the servants. They probably wanted to give them some privacy and the space they needed to talk.

As soon as they entered his room, Beast led her over to the rose and picked up the enchanted mirror from the pedestal.

"This mirror will show you anything you want to see." He explained as he handed it to her. "All you have to do is ask.

Belle took hold of the mirror and stared at her reflection. "I'd like to see my father, please."

Beast turned away, to give her a moment alone with her father. He heard Belle gasp, and he sharply turned around to see a look of panic on her face. "Papa, what are they doing to him?" She questioned in alarm. "He's in trouble!"

"What's happening?" Beast asked concernedly.

"The villages, they've formed a mob, they're attacking my father!" She cried. "Wait, I could use the book you showed me. I can go and save him, I can bring him back here, just like how I brought the baby rattle back from Paris!"

"You can't." Beast responded.

"Why not?" She questioned.

"Because that book was meant for me. If you go to that village, I'd have to go with you. And I can't be seen by those people... Not when they're so rallied up. I'll be killed."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" She asked. She was becoming hysterical.

Beast stared at her frightened expression and then glanced at the rose. He placed his paw on top of the glass case and clenched his fingers. He closed his eyes, a pained look crossing his face that he quickly tried to hide. He looked over at her again, barely able to speak. "You must go to him." He replied. It hurt him just by uttering those words.

"What did you say?" She asked.

He took his paw off the glass case and leaned on the pedestal. He was still barely able to speak. "You must go to him. No time to waste."

Belle was speechless. She stood there, unmoving, unsure of what to say or do.

He turned away. He couldn't bear to even look at her anymore. "I'm setting you free. Just take Philippe and go." He told her as firmly as he could. "Please, just go." He whispered, his voice cracking.

He saw her hold the mirror out to him in the corner of his eye. He glanced back at her, but avoided looking directly at her and shook his head. "No, you keep it with you. That way you'll always have a way to look back on me."

He looked away again. He couldn't take this anymore. Why didn't she just go? This was what she wanted, she was free!

Beast heard Belle's shoes clattering against the floor. But she wasn't leaving, in fact she was coming closer. She reached up with her hand and touched his face, and moved his head round to face her.

He met her gaze, staring at her brown orbs. This was the last time he'd ever see them.

Beast lifted his paw and placed it on top of the hand that was touching his face. He then turned his head and buried his face in her palm as he tried to hold back tears. Her touch was comforting. But it still didn't change the fact that he was losing her.

He lifted his other paw and ran his fingers through her soft, brown hair, before letting it drop to his side again.

Parting was such sweet sorrow.

"Thank you for understanding how much he means to me." She whispered gratefully.

She began to move away, and her hand slipped from his grasp. Belle slowly backed away, and the two held each other's gaze, before she finally turned, holding up her dress as she ran out of the room.

Beast took a step forwards, but it took every ounce of his strength to keep himself from going after her.

He let out a strangled gasp and choked up a sob as tears threatened to fall.

"Goodbye, Belle." He whimpered.

* * *

 **A/N - This chapter was both a joy and a chore to write. The ballroom scene is one of my favourite parts of the movie and I wanted to do it justice. You don't want to know how long I agonised over it, watching the scene over and over again. I hope all that time I spent on it was worth it. I wanted it to be perfect. Well, as perfect as it could in written form.**


	30. Chapter 29 - Forever Waiting

**Chapter 29 - Forever Waiting**

Only a few seconds after Belle had left and Beast's emotions were still completely shot, Cogsworth came in, eager for news.

Beast was standing beside the pedestal, staring solemnly at the rose. He was still adoring his ballroom attire, but had loosened his cravat, as he felt like it was choking him, when in actuality he had been choking on his sobs.

"Well, master, I may have had my doubts but everything seems to be moving like clockwork! True love really does win the day." The mantle clock stated joyfully.

Beast turned away from the rose, and stared sadly at Cogsworth. His tired eyes did a quick sweep of the room, taking note that the mantle clock was not alone, and had brought several familiar faces along with him, all of which were equally excited.

"I let her go." He murmured. His voice sounded broken.

"You did what?!" Cogsworth cried in alarm.

"Master, how could you do that?" Lumiere asked.

"I had to." He responded simply, casting his eyes at the ground. He didn't want to look at them anymore.

"But why?" Cogsworth questioned.

There were many reasons. For one, he didn't want Belle to lose another parent. He had already lost both, so at least he could help her save her father. Another reason was that setting her free was the right thing to do. It was what she wanted, what she needed to be truly happy.

But the main reason for why he had done it... The same reason that was only just beginning to dawn on him, was simple and yet so complicated at the same time.

"Because I love her." He stated.

If you love someone, then you have to let them go.

"Then why are we not human?" Lumiere questioned.

"Because she doesn't love him, and now it's too late." Cogsworth answered.

Beast felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. Cogsworth was right... He was still trapped in this body, he was living proof that Belle didn't love him. All of their hard work... Had been for nothing. He had failed them.

"But she might still come back." Plumette offered a bit of optimism.

Beast shook his head. "No, I set her free. I'm sorry I couldn't do the same for you." He apologised. He was truly, and deeply sorry. This was all his fault... And he had failed to fix it. He still couldn't do anything right. "You should go and enjoy what little time we have left."

The servants turned and sadly walked away, their heads hung low. Their fates had been sealed. Not only had he lost Belle, but now he was going to lose them too.

Beast watched them leave. Once they were gone, he turned and punched the nearest wall in frustration. He pretended that the wall was his own face.

He then butted his head against the wall, and then pressed his forehead up against it, clenching his teeth as he tried to stop himself from crying. He closed his eyes and held them tightly shut. Nothing had changed. He was still useless, still a waste of space... And now he had lost the first and only person he had ever loved.

He heard Philippe's cry. His eyes shot open and he pushed himself off the wall. He staggered passed the wilting rose and stumbled through the gap in the wall and out onto one of castle walkways.

And there she was. Belle, riding on Philippe's back, her yellow dress fluttering in the wind as Philippe ran through the gardens.

The love of his life, slowly disappearing from his view. The yellow dress was almost symbolic. He had been in the dark for so long, but when she came into his life, she showed him the light. She was the light. And now it was fading fast, plunging him into eternal darkness once more.

He supposed that this was a good thing. It was good for her. He couldn't let her fall in love with him, he had to save her from that. She was everything that he was not. She deserved so much better than him.

She was free now, she could go home to her father, she could save him from the angry mob. He knew she could do it, he knew she could do anything if she really put her mind to it. And after that, perhaps she and her father could move away from that terrible village, maybe go back to Paris and start over. Maybe someone would snag her up, for her inventions or her vast literacy knowledge. She could become a teacher, or an inventor. And if not, she could go see the world, she could go and be whatever she wanted. She could find someone that truly deserved her, they could fall in love, and start a family, have a couple of beautiful children.

She could have everything that he couldn't give her.

He wanted that future for her so much.

But despite all of that, despite the fact that he knew she would eventually move on, that she was never going to come back... He was still going to wait for her.

Perhaps one day she would return and proclaim her undying love for him.

That was a nice thought, but... No. She didn't love him. That much was clear.

But it didn't even matter anymore. He didn't care about the curse, he didn't care about becoming human again, he didn't care about himself! All he cared about was that Belle was free. She could live the life she wanted, and no one was going to stand in her way.

All he cared about was her.

Beast began to walk across the castle walkway, trying to keep Belle in sight.

He knew what true love was now. He had let her into his heart, and allowed himself to fall for her. But he had learnt too late, and now he would never know what it would feel like to be loved by her. But even if his love for her was unrequited, he would never stop loving her. He would never stop thinking about her. She would stay with him always.

The fact that she allowed him to experience what true love was might be enough to carry him through to the bitter end. She gave his life meaning, and for that, he had to thank her.

The thought of her would torment him, but it would calm him, and it would also move him, perhaps all at once. She would mess with his mind and make his heart ache, but in turn, her memory would keep him going.

He entered the nearest tower and began to climb up, reaching the nearest window and gazing out, catching another glimpse of Belle as she rode off into the night.

His castle door would always be open, and he would wait here, wasting away... Waiting for her to come back.

Because there was no other option. He could not die from old age, he was going to live forever. He would stay exactly the same, stuck in this endless nightmare for all time. He wasn't going to take his own life... Because that's not what she would have wanted. She didn't want him to give up. Even if his life meant nothing at all without her.

The thought of her being alive out there, actually living a good life, was enough to give him a reason to live. If she ever did come back, he didn't want her to return to an empty castle, and find him... He decided to stop himself there.

Even after the servants were long gone, he would still be here. Even after the castle crumbles and becomes nothing but dust, he would still be here. Belle was going to influence every decision he made, he was going to carry the thought of her through thick and thin and never let go. Because if he forced himself to forget about her, then that was when he would truly lose her.

He climbed higher, exiting the tower and heading across the battlements towards the largest and tallest tower, keeping an eye on Belle as he walked.

She was starting to become a mere speck in the distance. But even as she flew so far beyond his reach... She would never leave his sight. He would keep a strong, vivid picture of her in his mind, and never allow it to fade, even if she herself was fading from view.

He turned and entered the tower, climbing the stairs. Everything she had taught him, every word she had breathed, he would hold dear. She would inspire him and be a part of everything he did from this moment forward. He would do right by her, he would be better, he would put others before himself. He would be brave, just like her.

He reached the top of the tower and watched as Belle was nearing the castle gates.

He would fool himself that she would one day walk right in, and they could be together again. He didn't care when, he didn't care how, he just hoped that she would come back. He didn't know how they could make it work... But they could try. And once he was alone, once he lost all of the servants... He would think and reminisce on everything they did together, everything they had and everything they shared. He would think of what might have been; where he told her how much he loved her when he had the chance. And she would have returned his feelings, breaking the curse and returning him and the servants to their human forms.

He would picture their happy ending. It would help him fight through the pain.

The castle gates swung open and Belle left through them, disappearing into the forest and finally leaving his sight.

Beast stood silently, as the gravity of the situation began to truly sink in. Belle was gone. Who knows how long he would have to wait before she came back. If she came back.

He had lost her... Forever.

Beast collapsed to his knees and began to sob loudly, unable to contain his emotions anymore. He buried his face in his paws as hot tears streamed down his cheeks as he cried. "Don't go." He whimpered. He allowed that wavering sense of selfishness to slip passed his better judgement just for a second.

He lowered his paws and stretched out his arm, reaching out towards the horizon. But it was futile. She was already long gone.

He clenched his paw tightly and lowered his arm. He began to pull off his cravat and held the neckerchief up, allowing it to flutter in the wind. He let go of it, and watched as it was carried away on the breeze, swirling and twirling as it blew away.

He liked to believe that it would be able to reach her somehow.

In reality, it would probably get caught on a tree branch.

He preferred the previous thought. He took off his jacket, and peeled off his waistcoat. They smelt of her. It was faint, but her scent was there. He had a feeling he was going to want to hold onto this... As these were the last clothes he wore before she walked out of his life for good.

He laid the jacket and waistcoat on the floor, leaving him in nothing but his white undershirt and trousers. He just needed a moment to allow his body to breath. He had felt like he was suffocating in all of those layers of clothing.

More tears trickled down his face as he traced his fingers over his jacket. For a moment, in the ballroom, he had held her in his arms, he had carried her. She had trusted him not to let her fall.

He had never wanted to let her go.

He was already starting to miss her, what was he going to do without her?

He... He couldn't go back to being alone. The thought of having no one else in the world was soul crushing.

Beast began to roar in anguish, his cries echoing throughout the castle grounds and beyond the woods. The sound of his sorrow could not reach his lost love.

* * *

 **A/N - I decided that if Beast sung Evermore in written form it wouldn't have the same affect, but I didn't want to cut it out either as it's one of my favourite songs from the movie. So instead I translated the lyrics into his thoughts and made my own version. I hope you liked it. I also decided that he didn't get changed immediately but instead removed his outer layer of clothing later on.**

 **I'm thinking about posting the last three chapters back to back over three days, starting Monday. What do you think? Would you guys like that or do you prefer the schedule as it is?**


	31. Chapter 30 - In Her Arms

**Chapter 30 - In Her Arms**

Beast was emotionally drained. His throat felt sore after roaring at the top of his lungs for what felt like hours.

He was crouched down at the edge of the tower, leaning against the nearby gargoyle and staring off into the distance.

He had heard chanting coming from the woods not too long ago, and seen the flicker of bright, orange torch light through the trees.

He had done nothing but simply watched.

The large mob, marching on horseback and on foot had knocked down the castle gate using a make-shift battering ram, and were now moving through the gardens, approaching the castle.

There were dozens of people down below, a trail of them stretching out as far as the eye could see. He tried counting, but he lost track quickly. They all wanted to stain their hands with his blood, that much was certain, as they were shouting 'Kill the beast' over and over again. Their voices were thick with anger but also a great sense of fear.

Was this the same mob Belle had been talking about? The one that had gone after her father? What had happened for them to come looking for him? Was this Belle's doing?

Did she turn them on him to save her father, so that they could both get away? Had they managed to escape while the mob was distracted? Or did they beat any information about him out of her?

Was she even alive?

Or was there some malicious intent behind this attack? Had she wanted this?

So many questions, so little answers. He was starting to drive himself mad.

He heard the clattering of metal against stone as well as heavy breathing. "Oh, master, there you are." The voice of Cogsworth came from behind him. The mantle clock was wheezing after climbing up so many flights of stairs. "I'm sorry to disturb you-"

"She's not coming back, is she?" Beast questioned sorrowfully. He didn't turn around to face him, instead he just stared off into the distance. There were so many scenarios buzzing around in his head about what could have happened to her, and none of them resulted in her ever returning to him.

"No, I don't think she is." Cogsworth responded. "But you have to help us, master, these people - they're breaking down the doors, they'll get in if we don't stop them."

He glanced back at Cogsworth, who was looking to him for help, for guidance. The servants needed someone to tell them what to do.

Beast couldn't do that.

"It doesn't matter now. Just let them come. Let them take everything I have, even though I have nothing left to give."

"But master, they're going to kill us, they're going to kill you!" Cogsworth argued.

"I heard." Beast responded dejectedly. "There's no point resisting, they're going to get in eventually. We may as well get it over with, before the curse claims us all." He added. "Now could you just leave me be?"

Cogsworth was silent for a moment. The cold, bitter wind rushed passed them, and the shouts from the mob grew louder, as well as the banging on the front door as they attempted to knock it down.

"No, it can't end like this. You may have given up, but I haven't. This is our home, and I'm not going back down to a bunch of intruders. We're going to fight till the last man! We won't die in vain!" Cogsworth stated strongly.

"You're going to die anyway, Cogsworth. You all are." Beast murmured sadly.

"Maybe so. But I'm still not going to give up, not until my last dying breath!" The mantle clock cried. "Farewell, master."

Cogsworth saluted, before hurrying back down the stairs. Beast watched him leave for a few seconds before turning to look down at the chaos happening below.

Cogsworth and the other servants could fool themselves that they could win. They could fool themselves that they stood a chance against these people. In the end, none of it mattered.

He would consider this a blessing. The servants would be set free when the mob tore through the castle, breaking everyone and everything. This was going to save them from a fate that was far worse.

Maybe this would set him free too. If he could not die from old age, and if he couldn't take his own life... Then maybe one of these people could finish him off. He wasn't sure if they'd be capable of killing him, as he wasn't sure how much his body could take.

But he knew that these people were very willing to try.

* * *

Beast was standing on the far side of the tower, allowing the seconds and minutes to tick by. The mob had stormed the castle and broken down the front door using their battering ram. They were inside. It was only a matter of time before someone found him.

He wondered what had become of the servants. Had they managed to hold out? But for how long?

Maybe they were already dead. Maybe he was the only one left. He hoped that their deaths had been quick and painless. He hoped that they were at peace now. At least they wouldn't have to suffer any longer, and wouldn't end up as inanimate objects.

His ear twitched and he shuddered, a tingling sensation rushing up his spine. He wasn't alone anymore. Someone was here with him, he could sense their presence.

Beast turned slightly, and heard the click of a gun, and saw the barrel of a pistol being aimed directly at him. The owner of the gun was a rather muscular man, adoring a red leather jacket, with bronze buttons that had deer antlers engraved into them. He had a sandy brown waistcoat underneath and a white cravat around his neck. His tight fitting clothes showed off his well-built physique. The stranger had a crossbow strapped to his back, and a holster for his pistol attached to his belt. He wore big, black riding boots, that covered the majority of his leg. His long black hair was slicked back into a ponytail and his dark, grey-ish blue eyes were wild with hunger. This man knew the thrill for the hunt, and saw Beast as a prized creature just waiting to be slaughtered.

The hunter was grinning menacingly as he took a step closer. "Hello, Beast." He greeted coldly. He had a deep, loud, booming voice, that was also slightly gravelly. "I'm Gaston. Belle sent me."

Belle? But she couldn't- she wouldn't... Would she?

Beast turned away and looked towards the horizon. He recalled on every moment they had shared together and began to wonder if it was all false, if she had been luring him into a trap. To trick him into releasing her.

Was their relationship a lie?

This was Gaston, the man who had been chasing after Belle, the man who wanted her hand in marriage. Maybe they were engaged after all. Maybe he wanted to kill the monster that had kept his finance prisoner. Maybe Belle had asked her soon to be husband to take revenge on the creature that locked up her father and herself.

No. He couldn't think like that. He didn't know this man at all, he was making it all up, trying to make him vulnerable. It was a lie, it had to be, Belle wouldn't do this. And even if she had, she would have done it to save her father, she wouldn't have wanted to doom him unless she had to.

But... Why did he feel so empty? The mention of her name was enough to make his heart sink.

Whether she wanted him dead or not... She was still gone... And she was never coming back.

"Were you in love with her?" Gaston questioned.

Beast was silent as he lowered his head sadly. He had been in love with her. He still was, and always would be. His heart belonged to her. He just felt ashamed to announce it out loud to this man that he barely knew. He knew Gaston would only laugh at him if he declared his love for Belle.

"Did you honestly think she'd want you?" Gaston mocked him. "She would never choose such a misshapen creature. Not when she has someone like me."

Gaston's words rang true. Why would she ever want to be with him? Had he really gotten it into his head that she would love him in return?

Beast could feel himself sinking further into despair. He wanted the ground to swallow him up and eat him whole.

A shot rang out behind him. A sharp pain rushed through his shoulder, as a bullet carved it's way into his body and embedded itself in his flesh. He felt blood trickle out of his fresh wound, running down his back and through his fur, staining his white shirt.

Beast roared in pain, the blast from the gun and his legs caving causing him to topple over the side of the tower. For a moment, he was dazed, and only realised he was falling when he was just about to collide with another tower. He landed heavily on the roof, but managed to catch himself from sliding off. He grabbed hold of the tiles with all four paws, scraping some of the tiles off. He watched the pieces of broken slate fall down into the chasm below, becoming lost in the darkness.

That was one hell of a drop.

A surge of pain rushed through his shoulder. He could feel the bullet lodged in his shoulder blade, grinding against his bones. There was no time to catch his breath, or nurse his injury. He winced and gritted his teeth, before moving around to the other side of the roof, where he would be sheltered from anymore gunfire.

He heard some commotion going on above him. What was happening? Why hadn't Gaston taken another shot? In the corner of his eye, he saw something sliver fall through the air, and land on one of the castle walkways below. Was that Gaston's pistol? How had he managed to drop it?

Beast attempted to climb higher, but only ended up sliding further down, more tiles chipping off and falling down into the chasm below. He was losing his footing. He needed to move, and he needed to move now, or else the tiles wouldn't be the only thing falling off this roof.

"I'm coming for you, Beast!" Gaston shouted.

Maybe he did want to die, maybe he didn't. He didn't know what he wanted anymore. But he refused to die like this, not on this stupid roof! And not by Gaston's hand.

He turned and jumped towards another tower. He landed heavily, another surge of pain rushing though his shoulder as he grabbed onto the roof tiles, using them as grip. He could hear the castle crumbling around him, as well as heavy movement, as Gaston attempted to follow him.

Beast moved round and jumped towards a tower with two twin spires. He roared in pain when he landed heavily once again. The bullet wound wasn't making this any easier, in fact it was starting to become unbearable. At least he still had feeling in that arm. He scrambled upwards, grabbing hold of the closest spire.

"No!" A familiar voice cried.

He knew that voice anywhere.

"Belle?" He murmured aloud. Was he imagining it? He turned his head and immediately caught sight of her. She was across quite a large gap, standing in the doorway of a crumbling tower, wearing little-to-nothing but white undergarments from her yellow ball gown, as well as her worn, muddy, brown boots.

She was real. She was here.

Beast swung round the spire and jumped onto the other, so that he was directly across from her and could get a better look at her. "BELLE!" He shouted. A wave of happiness and relief washed over him. How he had missed her in such a short amount of time they had been apart. "You came back."

"I tried to stop them!" She shouted.

He knew she wouldn't send the mob here because she wanted him to be killed, he knew Gaston had been lying. She wouldn't want him to get hurt.

But... She was in danger. The castle was deteriorating, any second now and the floor could cave underneath her, or the roof could come crashing down on her.

He had to get to her.

"Stay there, I'm coming!" He instructed.

Beast jumped across to nearest tower, but didn't give himself time to recover before leaping across a large gap to another. He was cutting corners, taking the shortest and fastest route. He didn't care if it was dangerous, he didn't care if his shoulder and arm were pulsing with unimaginable pain. He just wanted to get to her.

He didn't think about the future, he didn't think about what they would do after he reached her. All he wanted was to be with her again.

The tower he had just jumped to was causing him problems. He was having a hard time gripping anything, and was beginning to slip and lose his footing. He managed to latch onto a piece of the stone wall and hoist himself up. But just as he was getting back to his feet, pieces of rubble came crashing down on top of him, causing him to fall to the ground.

Gaston had jumped down from above, and broke off a small, stone spire, which he began wielding like a club. Before Beast could react, Gaston slammed the club against his back, knocking him against the wall.

As Beast recoiled, Gaston struck him again, knocking him down onto one of the castle walkways, that began to crumble under his weight. Beast rolled over, and attempted to get back up, but Gaston kicked him while he was down, and Beast ended up in a stone encirclement, surrounded by several columns that were supporting a dome shaped roof above them.

They were back where he started, only a short distance from his balcony and room.

"Gaston, no!" Belle pleaded. What was she doing here? He thought he told her to stay put. He supposed she couldn't help herself, she wanted to help him in any way she could, but was instead putting herself in harm's way. At least she wasn't in the thick of their battle.

Her voice lit a fire inside of him. Beast snarled, baring his teeth as he pushed himself off the ground and whirled around, grabbing hold of the club before Gaston could bring it down upon him and crack it over his skull. Beast rose to his full height, towering over Gaston and wrenching the club from his hand, smashing it against one of the columns.

Gaston was left stunned, almost quivering with fear as Beast turned on him, grabbing hold of his neck with his large paw and holding him over the edge. He could drop him if he wanted to. All he had to do was let go.

Gaston grabbed hold of Beast's paw and held on for dear life. It would seem that the brave hunter had been reduced to a snivelling coward as soon as the tables had turned. "Don't let me go! Please! I'll do anything! Anything!" He cried fearfully. "Don't hurt me, Beast."

Beast stared quietly at him for a moment, his hardened expression beginning to soften. Who was he to choose whether this man lived or died? If he let him fall, then he was no better than he was. Worse even. He would reduce himself to nothing more than a cold hearted monster.

That wasn't him.

Beast took a step back and pulled Gaston away from the ledge, bringing him closer to his face. The hunter looked confused and afraid, taking sharp intakes of breath as he came face to face with the creature he came to kill.

"I am not a beast." He growled. On the outside maybe, but not on the inside. Not anymore. He had grown, he had changed. He had gotten better. He was human. The beast was no more. He let out a roar before throwing Gaston to the ground. The hunter quickly got to his feet and scurried away, running down the spiralling staircase that surrounded the dome structure. "Go, get out."

He turned, laying his eyes on Belle. They were alone together once more. She was only a short distance away. He was so close.

He backed away and went down on all fours. He was going to need a bit of running room, as the gap he was about to jump was fairly large.

"Don't, it's too far!" Belle warned him.

He didn't listen. He was willing to take the risk. He let out a grunt of effort as he charged forwards, reaching the edge and pushing himself off with his legs, soaring across the gap and reaching the other side.

Belle leant down to help him up, but he managed on his own. He got to his feet and met her gaze. She stared proudly into his eyes, as he panted heavily, still trying to catch his breath. A smile crossed his lips.

A gunshot erupted behind them, echoing throughout the castle. His lower back exploded in pain and he screamed in agony, before collapsing onto his knees.

He glanced behind him to see Gaston standing on a crumbling walkway, holding his pistol. He came back, after he showed him such mercy? Why didn't he just leave? Why was he doing this? What had he done to make him hate him so much?

Belle immediately came to his aid, trying to help him up. He couldn't stand, the pain was excruciating. He could barely move. "Please stop!" She pleaded with Gaston.

Her pleas fell on deaf ears. He could hear Gaston reloading as he crawled towards his room, where he would hopefully be safe from gunfire.

Another shot rang out, with another bullet meeting its target. He roared in pain and fell forwards, rolling down the stairs before coming to a stop on the balcony, lying on his back.

There was a rumble, and the sound of a large chunk of the castle breaking off. A scream followed, which was cut off when the source hit the ground, causing a loud crack to echo throughout the chasm.

It would seem Gaston couldn't save himself.

At least the hunter had gotten what he wanted. He had fatally wounded his prey. He had also succeeded in driving a wedge between them. It would seem that if Gaston couldn't have Belle, then neither could he. He assumed that Gaston thought that he had stolen her from him, when in actuality she never belonged to him. She didn't belong to anyone. It would seem the hunter didn't take being rejected very well after all.

The former Prince lay on the stone cold floor, bullet wounds littering his body and blood beginning to pool around him. Belle knelt beside him, anguished.

He took hold of her hand in his large paw and she wrapped her other hand around his head, holding it up and supporting him, cradling him in her arms.

He was already starting to lose feeling in his legs.

"You came back." He whispered, his voice strained. He was fighting to keep his eyes open.

"Of course I came back. I'll never leave you again." She told him. Her voice quivered, she was on the verge of tears.

"I'm afraid it's my turn to leave." He stated, choking on his words.

"We're together now. Everything's going to be fine, you'll see." She whispered. "I can fix you. You're going to be alright." She told him comfortingly. It sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than him.

They both knew there was no coming back from this.

He squeezed her hand gently and lifted his other paw, touching her face and running his fingers through her soft, brown hair. "At least I got to see you, one last time." He whispered. He ran his thumb across her cheek and she leaned her head against his paw, closing her eyes and savouring his touch.

Using all the strength he had left, he lifted his head ever so slightly and pulled her hand closer to his face. He then kissed her hand, and his lips lingered there for a moment.

He was starting to lose feeling everywhere. Even the pain was starting to fade.

"Belle, I-" He began, but the words became lodged in his throat. He couldn't speak.

No, it couldn't end like this, not now! He never got to tell her how much he loved her.

His paw slowly slid off her face and his grip on her hand loosened.

This wasn't what he wanted anymore. He didn't want to die, he wanted to live, he wanted to be with her! He didn't want to leave her alone. He-

His thoughts were starting to become clouded, he was having trouble focusing.

If he had to die, at least he could die in her arms. That's all he could ask for.

His eye sight began to fade. The last thing he remembered seeing was Belle's face as she sobbed, before his world went black.

* * *

 **A/N - Just when he had found her, he lost her again, as well as his own life. Tragic. Here's a little detail I'll leave you with as I don't want to say much after such an ending - when Beast states that he is 'not a beast' the third person narrator stops referring to him as 'Beast' and only calls him 'he' and 'the former prince', to show if he doesn't think of himself as a beast, neither does the narrator. It's something I wanted to include.**

 **The next two chapters will be coming tomorrow and Wednesday, due to most of you wanting them back to back.**


	32. Chapter 31 - Resurrection and Redemption

**Chapter 31 - Resurrection and Redemption**

Darkness.

He lay floating on his back in the vast emptiness, staring blankly into the swirling void of black that stretched out into the sea of nothingness.

He felt like he was on the surface of a body of fresh water, even though there was nothing around him or beneath him.

Where was he? What was this place? What happened?

Was he dreaming? No... He was dead. He had been fatally wounded by a hunter... What was that man's name again? His mind was foggy. He remembered being with Belle in his final moments... And then he ended up here.

Was this what death felt like? It was lonely. The only thing he had for company was the calm, gentle breeze that rushed passed him, rustling his fur.

Fur?

There really was no escaping it. Even when he was stuck in limbo, he was still trapped in this body. He couldn't move his arms, or his legs, or anything for that matter, but he could feel it. He still had horns, he still had a tail, he still had paws and claws.

He was still a beast.

Wait, there was something above him. It was a light. It was small, barely noticeable, just a flicker in the darkness. But it was growing in size, becoming bigger and brighter, at quite an alarming rate. The wind began to whip up, whirling around him, getting stronger and faster, roaring in his ears.

He stared up at the light as it grew. Despite the harsh wind that was battering him from all sides, he could hear a quiet murmur, a voice that felt familiar and yet so new to him at the same time. He couldn't make out what they were saying as it was only a whisper.

The wind howled, and the light started to cloud his vision, banishing the darkness that was consuming him. He squinted as the light burst, reaching its full potential and piercing through the void, as well as momentarily blinding him.

The light suddenly shrank, vanishing into thin air. The wind abruptly stopped, leaving him alone in the dark, where there was nothing but the deafening silence.

And then he woke up.

There was a sort of grey, blurry haze in front of his eyes. He fluttered his eyelids, to allow his eyesight to adjust. However, he quickly realised that he was lying face down on the cold, hard stone floor.

He felt oddly refreshed, not even slightly sore, even though he was lying in a strange position, and the floor wasn't exactly comfortable. Plus, he was pretty sure he had been shot at least three times. But he was alive... Or at least he guessed he was. Maybe he had imagined all of it? He wasn't really sure what was going on, he was a little dazed and confused. He grunted as he heaved his body, pushing himself off the ground.

He sounded different. The noise he just made didn't sound as deep as usual, nor did it have even a hint of a low, rumbling growl added to it.

He struggled for a moment, before eventually managing to stand up. As he got to his feet, he quickly noticed that something was definitely off. For one thing, he wasn't as tall as he normally was, in fact it would seem that ten inches had been taken off his height, which wasn't normally possible. He swayed for a moment as he was a little off balance.

Another thing was that his clothes didn't feel like they fit him anymore, they seemed rather large. And the floor felt cold, in fact his entire body felt a little chilly, which was something he didn't normally experience.

He glanced down at himself and quickly realised why. He didn't have any fur. There wasn't even a tuft of brown fur left on his body. The huge amount of muscle mass was gone too, leaving him in a loose fitting white shirt. His trousers were still managing to hang on though, thankfully. The structure of his legs had changed, and instead of having paws... He had feet, and toes! And there was no long tail trailing behind him.

He quickly looked at his arms, raising his paws up so that he could get a better look at them. Only they weren't paws anymore... They were hands! And he didn't have any claws either.

He glanced at his shoulders, noticing the long blonde hair that was flowing down his neck, instead of the mane-like fur. His head felt much lighter, like a large amount of pressure had been lifted off of it. His horns must be gone too.

He ran his hands down his chest. Was this real? Was he actually human again? But how was this possible?

Wait, could it be- did Belle-

The Prince quickly turned around and caught sight of Belle standing on the other side of the balcony, staring wide-eyed at him. She was just about as stunned as he was.

He stood there silently, rooted to the spot, staring back at her. She broke the curse, she was in love with him, she had to be, she-

She looked a little unsure.

He wasn't really sure what to do. She knew he had been human once, but he supposed after being around him when he was a beast for so long, seeing him like this was still quite a shock. And she had most likely just seen him transform and come back from the dead.

He didn't want to approach her, or be too forward, as it might scare her. She had just been through an ordeal, he didn't want to put her through any more stress. He was practically a stranger in her eyes. Did she even recognise him?

Belle slowly and silently approached him, closing the gap between them. He studied her expression and body language for a few seconds as he stood there nervously, still unable to decide what to do with himself. He swallowed hard, trying to hide his nervousness but failing miserably. The Prince's bright blue eyes never left her as Belle lifted her hand and ran it along his neck, brushing back his long blonde hair and leaving her hand to reside behind his head. She did the same with her other hand on the other side of his face. No one had ever given him this kind of affection, no one had touched him like this before. No one had touched him in so long, he had been starved of it. What she was doing... Was magical. It made his heart race.

Her brown orbs looked up at him and stared deeply into his blue eyes, the only thing about him that had never changed. The one thing that she would be able to recognise.

A smile crossed his lips. No more fangs either, he couldn't feel them digging into the inside of his mouth. He could show her his teeth, instead of hiding them or feeling anxious about revealing them.

Belle let out a strangled gasp, that had a bit of laughter in it. Her eyes welled up with tears of joy.

She knew it was him. She knew it was the beast she had fallen in love with.

He finally made a move. He lifted his hand and touched her cheek, running his fingers through her brown hair. He no longer had to be afraid of snagging her hair with his claws, or scratching her face. He could do anything.

The two leaned in for their first kiss. They shut their eyes tight, and when their lips met and connected, it made his heart skip a beat and nearly burst out of his chest. He felt lighter than air, that he could soar high above the clouds. This was everything he could ever hope for and more. She was everything to him, she was his world.

He felt like he was falling in love with her all over again.

They moved their head and leaned deeper into the kiss. He roamed his hands down her face and her shoulders, moving closer to her, embracing her, allowing their lips to dance. They wanted to get into every nook and cranny, but never parted, not even for a second. They wanted this kiss to last forever.

For a moment, just a brief moment, they were interlocked. They were one.

He wanted to hold her and kiss her and hug her and never let her go again. That's all he needed, to keep his heart and himself afloat. This was the girl he always needed, the one that he had waited for. She was the one.

He was in love. He finally knew what it felt like to be in love and be loved. A kiss was enough to show that she loved him in return. But it wasn't just the kiss that was special, it wouldn't be special without Belle. She made it enchanting.

She set his heart ablaze just by being her.

And now she finally understood how much she meant to him, all through nothing more than a kiss. A kiss that he knew he would never forgot.

After what felt like an eternity, the two pulled away, coming up for air. The two smiled at each other breathlessly, their arms still wrapped around the other. "I thought I lost you." Belle said, her voice cracking as she spoke.

"And I thought I lost you." The Prince responded. He was a little taken aback by his own voice, he wasn't used to this pitch. It wasn't high or squeaky, but it wasn't a low, deep growl either, which was a welcoming change.

Belle leaned forwards and kissed him lovingly again, tracing every corner of his lips. They couldn't bear to be apart, not even for a second. "Don't ever do that to me again." She murmured, speaking into his mouth, their lips still touching.

"I don't plan on it." He replied.

They pulled away again, and Belle cupped his face with her hands, almost as if she was beholding him. "Look at you, you're-"

"Not as furry?" He asked wittily.

"I was going to say human, but that works too." She responded, snorting a laugh.

The two stood holding hands for a moment, smiling warmly at one another. The Prince then glanced around the room, noticing that the broken balcony wall had been restored, along with the fallen castle walkways. And was that... Daylight?

"It's not winter anymore!" He cried, racing over to the edge of the balcony with Belle in tow. He was right, there was no more snow covering the gardens or the castle, and the fountains were no longer frozen over. It was early morning, and he could see the sun on the horizon, the golden glow banishing the darkness that had surrounded his castle for so long. There wasn't even a single cloud in the bright, ocean blue sky.

It must have changed while they were kissing. It had sealed their bond, and had completely lifted the curse.

Oh how he had missed seeing a bright, summer morning.

Wait, if he was human again then that meant... The servants had to be human again as well! Maybe they had managed to hold out after all. That was evident by the crowd of people by the front entrance. It just had to be them.

The Prince could feel himself bursting with excitement as he turned back to Belle and squeezed her hand. "We should go and see the servants right away!"

Belle nodded in agreement, and the two walked hand in hand out of his room and down the stairs. It was pleasant to see that the West Wing had been completely restored as well, as last time he checked it was about to cave in on itself.

As they were nearing the front entrance, he could hear a big commotion going on outside. It would seem that all the villagers had come back, and were greeting the servants, reuniting with those that had been erased from their memories.

The Prince and Belle paused on the stairway and shared a glance. "Are you ready to face them?" Belle asked him.

"No." He replied. A wave of nervousness washed over him. What would the servants think? After years of verbal abuse, would they really be able to forgive him just because he wasn't a beast anymore? And what about the villagers? What would they think, now that they remembered him and how cruel he had been.

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "You can do this." She told him encouragingly.

The Prince smiled at her and nodded "You're right. Come on, we can't keep them waiting."

The two descended the last few flights of stairs and out through the front door. He was greeted by the warm summer heat, something he hadn't experienced in a long time. Had the sun always been this bright? The scent of pollen from the garden was strong too, overwhelming his senses. The crowd of people at his front door went quiet as soon as they came out, and stared in awe and wonder. There was a quiet murmur and hushed whispers amongst the group of villagers and servants alike.

"Oh, my prince!" Lumiere cried. The Prince's eyes landed on one of his most trusted servants, who was no longer a walking, talking candlestick, but a man wearing a white wig, and a golden jacket, waist coat and trousers. Lumiere bowed to him and the woman next to him, who was wearing a white, feather lined dress, and was unmistakably Plumette curtsied.

The Prince glanced at Belle for a brief second, who smiled and nodded, urging him to go over. He turned back to Lumiere and let go of Belle's hand, drawing closer to him. "Hello old friend." The Prince greeted, smiling at Lumiere.

He offered him a hug, but was a little worried that he wouldn't accept it. Lumiere embraced him in a hug almost immediately and began to pat his back. "It's so good to see you."

What did he ever do to deserve such kind and forgiving servants?

The Prince was a little stiff at first, but relaxed in Lumiere's arms. "It's good to see you too." They held their friendly embrace for a few seconds, before pulling away. His hands lingered on Lumiere's upper arms for a moment, gripping them tightly and smiling at him. It felt good to hold his old friend again, to see him normally, instead of looking at a candle stick.

"You saved our lives, mademoiselle." Plumette addressed Belle, giving her a grateful nod.

"Belle, it's me, it's Chip!" The teacup that was now a human boy came running up to Belle, throwing his arms around her waist. Belle beamed, smiling ear to ear and returning his hug. He watched for a moment, smiling warmly at the sight of Chip, as well as his two parents that were following close behind him. Mr and Mrs Potts together again. A family reunited.

The Prince began to go around everyone, talking to Cogsworth, then Chapeau, then Mrs Potts and her husband, and even Chip, who gave his leg a hug. He really was a sweet child, and it was pleasing to know that he wasn't afraid to hug him.

After a short while, he noticed a woman standing alone, distant from everyone else. She had curly dirty blonde hair, and her slightly pale skin seemed to glow in the sunlight. She was adoring a hooded cloak and a rather simple brown dress that was a little rugged. She looked vaguely familiar. After shooting a few quick glances her way and trying in vain to figure out who she was, he went over to talk to her.

"I'm sorry, but you seem familiar to me... Have we met somewhere before?" He asked.

The woman turned to him and gave him a brief nod. "We met once, a long time ago." She replied. "I looked a little different back then."

He examined her face a little more, studying her features when it suddenly clicked. "You're-" he began.

"Yes, am I." She stated before he could even finish. She could read his thoughts? Or maybe she could predict what he was going to say?

"The Enchantress..." He breathed in disbelief.

"Most of the people here know me as Agathe." She responded. "I wasn't going to return here, but I wanted to make sure that everything worked out in the end. I haven't intervened all that much, but sometimes people or events need to be pushed in the right direction. My last act was to ensure you stayed alive." She told him.

The Enchantress had brought him back to life? He supposed that would explain it, there was no mention of reviving him in the curse. And had she been living amongst these people this entire time? "You knew all of this was going to happen?" He questioned.

"There were many outcomes that I foresaw. I'm glad that this was the one that came to fruition." She replied. "I'm glad you found love, young Prince."

"So am I." He told her. It was strange, he thought he would hold more of a grudge or some sort of animosity towards her... But he felt not even a shred of burning hatred. After all, she never wished death upon him. "I'm sorry for how I treated you that day... And I'm sorry for everything I did before then. I was a terrible person, cruel and selfish... I deserved the punishment I got."

"You've come out of this a changed man, and that I am thankful for. I never did this to be cruel, I'm not as sick or twisted as you once thought me to be. To tell you the truth, doing this pained me a great deal. All I wanted was to teach you a lesson... And I'd say that lesson has been learnt." Agathe finished. She then bowed her head. "Good day to you, young Prince. May your beauty remain on the inside as well as on the outside."

And with that, she walked away, disappearing into the crowd of townspeople. He assumed that this was the last time their paths would ever cross.

He silently thanked her, because if none of this ever happened, he would never have met Belle, and never found true love.

Eventually, he and Belle met up again. "It's getting a little crowded, huh?" She commented.

"Yes. Do you want to get some air? I've been meaning to talk to you in private." He replied.

"I've been wanting to talk to you too. But my father isn't here, I thought he would be..."

"Maybe he's still back at the village?" He suggested.

"That must be it. But how will he get here? He can't go on foot."

"Don't worry, I'll send someone to go fetch him for you."

Belle smiled "Thank you." She said gratefully.

"Why don't you go wait in the ballroom and I'll catch up with you in a second?"

She nodded, walking over to the front entrance. She glanced back at him for a moment, and his gaze lingered on her before she disappeared out sight.

He turned and walked over to Lumiere, who was currently all over Plumette, roaming his hands down her body, planting kisses on her face. He placed his hand on Lumiere's shoulder to catch his attention. "Master, what can I do for you?" Lumiere asked, his hands wrapped around Plumette's waist.

The Prince smiled "I'm glad you two are able to hold each other again." He commented.

Plumette kissed Lumiere on the cheek as he continued to speak "We're glad too. I don't know how I was able to last so long without being able to kiss my love."

The Prince quickly got back to the matter at hand "Can you send someone down to the village to find Belle's father and bring him back here?" He requested.

"Of course, master. I'll make sure that it is done right away."

"Thank you." The Prince replied gratefully. He was about to depart and follow after Belle when Lumiere called him back.

"Master."

"Yes?" The Prince replied, turning to look at his old friend.

"I'm glad you were able to fix this." Lumiere said with a smile.

"I couldn't have done it without Belle." He stated, before taking his leave.

He wasn't used to walking bare foot in the castle. Without his paws and the hard pads beneath them, his feet were cold and he was a little worried about stepping on something and hurting himself.

Thankfully, he reached the ballroom unscathed, where Belle was waiting for him. They could still hear the villages and servants talking amongst themselves, but it was quieter and less noticeable.

Belle was standing in the middle of the ballroom, staring up at the glistening sunlight that was coming in through the windows. Was she admiring her own handy work?

It occurred to him that their dance had only taken place last night. It felt like a lifetime ago. So much had happened since then.

He deliberately cleared his throat, alerting her to his presence. She turned round and smiled when she caught sight of him.

"Would you like to go out onto the balcony overlooking the gardens?" He asked.

Belle nodded "Yes. We can sit on the bench out there." She agreed.

He walked down the steps and joined her in the centre of the ballroom, and they walked across to the other steps and pushed the balcony doors open, heading outside once more.

He could hear birds chirping as he allowed Belle to sit down on the bench and get comfortable, before sitting down close beside her. The Prince stared at the lush, green gardens, and the colourful flowers and hedge rows stretching out as far as the eye could see. The castle grounds never looked more alive.

He turned back to Belle, who was sitting quietly and playing with her dress. She looked like she wanted to say something. After a moment of silence, she spoke up. "So, you're a prince." She commented, glancing up at him.

"Yes, I am. I'm sorry, I should have told you." He apologised.

"Maybe you should have. But I probably should have guessed really, what with the castle... And the staff... It just never seemed to cross my mind." She responded. "I'm not sure why."

"I thought you might have figured it out at some point."

"Utterly clueless." She admitted. "Still... I don't even know your name. I only ever called you 'the Beast' when talking to other people about you." She wasn't looking at him anymore, instead she was staring down at her hands that she had folded together on her lap.

She talked about him to other people? When? And what about? Did she share her feelings about him with someone else beforehand?

"Well, I never told you it." The Prince replied.

"And I never asked." Belle murmured.

"I didn't think I was worthy of name... Because I didn't think a monster like me deserved one." He explained.

"Do you think you're worthy of one now?" She questioned, glancing up at him again.

He went quiet. "Yes, I believe so." He answered. Up on the castle walkways, when he had spared Gaston, he had reformed himself, he had taken control of who he was. He didn't think of himself as a beast after that point. And now he deserved a name.

"You were always worthy of one, whether you were human or not." Belle stated.

The Prince smiled. It was nice to know she thought that way. "You know, we never actually introduced ourselves. I only learnt your name from your father."

"Well, it's not too late to introduce ourselves." She responded.

"In that case..." He began, lifting his arm and holding out his hand. "My name is Adam." He stated.

Belle took hold of his hand and shook it, smiling warmly. "Hello, Adam. My name is Belle."

"It's nice to meet you, Belle." Adam replied, smiling back at her.

They let go of each other's hands, and went quiet again. Belle looked away and lifted her hand and moved a wisp of hair behind her ear, while Adam watched her silently. Was there something bothering her? She seemed to be lost in deep thought.

She turned back to him with another question on her lips. "What broke the curse?" She asked. "Plumette said that I saved their lives... But how? What did I do?"

Adam was silent. He supposed that it was time to tell her the truth, after holding back on giving her information about himself ever since they met. "It was love." He stated. "In order to break the curse, I had to learn to love another and earn their love in return."

"I see... So that's why you didn't tell me... We had to bond naturally."

"Yes. Empty words would never break such a powerful spell." He paused for a moment and sighed. "I wish I could have told you, I wish I could have told you everything, but... You had to learn to love me how I was, and not who I had been. I just want you to know that, at first, I didn't care about anything but breaking the curse, I was only looking out for myself. But when I got to know you better, I started to deeply care about you, and stopped putting myself first. I may have set out to get your affection for my own personal gain, but by the end of it... I didn't care about becoming human again, all I cared about was how you felt, and what you wanted. I would never have forced myself upon you, and I would never have forced you to love me. My feelings for you are genuine and real... And I know yours are too... But I deceived you, and I'm sorry that I did that."

Belle lifted her hand and combed her fingers through his golden locks, curling a strand around one of her fingers. "I'm glad that you can be honest with me. You were put in a difficult situation, you were desperate, and you were given a chance to fix all of this, so you had to take it, for your own sake, as well as the servants. You've grown and you've changed... I won't hold what you set out to do against you, because in the end... All you wanted was to make me happy."

He almost breathed a sigh of relief. He had been worried that she would take it the wrong way, perhaps abandon him for lying to her. His intentions had never been bad, truth be told he had thought for a while that this would never have been the outcome, so he didn't think if he told her about the curse or not would make any difference. Still, there was still something playing on his mind...

Adam turned away and stood up, getting off the bench and moving over to the edge of the balcony. He rested his hands on the stone wall and inhaled, breathing in the fresh, pollinated air. He heard Belle get up, as well as her boots clattering across the stone floor. He caught sight of her as she came to stand beside him, resting her hands on the balcony wall. Her hand moved across the surface of the wall and settled on top of his. He tensed up a little and turned his head to look at her. Her brown orbs were looking up at him, a look of concern and worry written on her face. "I understand if you don't want to be with me anymore." He began. "I don't exactly look like the person you fell in love with anymore, and I know there's so much you want to do with your life, I don't want you to feel like you have to stay with me, not if you don't want to, especially after I've been keeping you here, and-"

Belle put her finger up to his lips in order to silence him, as he was getting flustered and starting to ramble. She then lowered her hand and kissed him on the cheek. "I want to be with you." She stated strongly, before pulling away. "Do you want to be with me?" She questioned.

He didn't even take a second to think about it. "I do. I've never wanted anything more."

The two leaned forwards and kissed each other on the lips. He would never tire of kissing her.

"There may be some things I still want to do with my life... But finding you was the best thing that's ever happened to me." She murmured through the kiss. "Everything else can wait, because right now, I just want to be with you."

Adam's heart fluttered, a smile crossing his lips as he leaned deeper into the kiss.

* * *

Belle's father had been found. He had been in the village, having a nice conversation about children and the ups and downs of fatherhood with the carriage driver that was supposed to have carted him off to an insane asylum. The Prince believed that odd story in a heartbeat, as much stranger things had happened to him.

He was sitting outside the library, still adoring his baggy white shirt and blue trousers that he had to keep adjusting around his waist. After closer inspection, he had noticed that there was no blood staining the back of his shirt or any trace of bullet holes. It would seem the Enchantress had repaired his clothing as well as his wounds.

He would go and get changed, but he was eager to settle things with Belle's father before he did anything else. A change of clothes would have to wait, as Belle had nearly wrapped up the private conversation she and her father were having in the library. They were catching up, as well as talking about him, so he wanted to give them some time alone, as she hadn't seen him in days and their last meeting must have been brief, as she had immediately rushed back to the castle.

The door creaked open and Belle poked her head out. Adam quickly got up out of the chair he had been settled in and turned to her. "You can come in now." She told him.

She lifted her arm and offered him her hand, which he happily took hold of, and followed her inside.

Adam immediately caught sight of Belle's father, sitting in a chair across the room. "Papa, this is the man I've been telling you about." Belle told him, gesturing to Adam. "This is Adam. Prince Adam." She stated. "And Adam, this is my father, Maurice."

The Prince felt a wave of anxiousness wash over him as he locked eye contact with Maurice. He gulped and let go of Belle's hand, approaching her father and holding out his hand, looking for a handshake. Maurice stared at him for a moment, looking him up and down.

Adam could feel himself sweating. How stupid did he have to be to think that Maurice, the man he had taken as his prisoner, would ever-

Maurice took hold of his hand and gave it a firm shake, which took him by surprise. "Nice to meet you." He stated. "You seem to be in a state of undress." The old man commented.

Adam glanced down himself and laughed. "Sorry about that, I'm a little all over the place at the moment."

Maurice let go of his hand and studied his face for a few seconds, almost as if he was trying to find any trace of the beast he had once been. "Belle tells me that you're the beast that locked me up in the dungeon."

"Was, Papa." Belle corrected him.

Adam's brow became knitted with guilt. "Yes, I was." He responded. He then knelt down in front of Maurice, so that he was much lower than him. "And I'm so deeply sorry for what I did. I don't know what was wrong with me. I was just so angry and filled with hate. I was constantly blaming myself for what had happened to me and the servants, and I needed something - anything to take all of my frustration out on... And you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time." He let out a shaky sigh and bowed his head. "There's so much that I have done that I need to fix and I will do everything I can to make up for what I did to you, and... I hope that one day you'll be able to find it in your heart to forgive me."

The room went quiet. The Prince knelt in silence, unable to look Maurice in the eye. All of a sudden, a hand touched his shoulder, catching his attention and causing him to lift his head and meet Maurice's gaze. "There's nothing to forgive, my boy." He said softly. "You've made my daughter so happy, you've helped her understand what happened to her mother, what happened to my wife, and in turn... You helped me come to terms with her death. And that's all thanks to you." Maurice told him. He then helped Adam to his feet and gripped his arm tightly. "Just promise me that you'll continue to make my daughter happy, and we won't have a problem."

The Prince smiled and nodded firmly. "You have my word."

Maurice moved his hand away from his arm and sat back in the chair. "I know you'll do right by her." Belle walked over and kissed her father on the cheek, and then gave him a warm hug.

"Perhaps you could keep an eye on me. You're more than welcome to live here in the castle, Maurice. We have plenty of rooms for you to stay in, and I'm sure you'll be able to fit your music boxes and painting equipment anywhere you like, as there's lots of room. And I'd love to hang up one of your portraits in the gallery room. Belle has told me all about your work." Adam told him.

"Are you sure that's alright? I wouldn't want to get in your way." Maurice responded.

"Nonsense. You wouldn't be in the way at all." He replied. "Besides, I don't want Belle to be separated from her father ever again. Please stay, I insist."

"Well, if you insist... I'd be happy to stay here." Maurice stated. "Thank you, I'll move in right away."

"And I'll help you pick out a room." Belle stated.

The Prince smiled. It was so good to see Belle and her father together. Their strong bond reminded him of his own relationship with his mother. He didn't want to keep a father and his daughter apart, not when they mattered so much to each other. He just hoped he wouldn't have to compete with Maurice for Belle's affection and attention. He was sure there wouldn't be too much rivalry.

"I have some duties I need to attend to, but I'll catch up with you later." He told Belle.

"That's fine, you have missed out on a lot. I'll see you later." She replied.

Adam nodded, turning and leaving the library. It was going to take a while to catch up on ten years of lost time. He didn't even know where to start.

* * *

It had been a long day. Most of the servants had gone back to the village, to spend time with their families and friends that they hadn't been able to see in years. He had told the staff that they could take as much time off as they needed. By the time everyone had cleared out, the only servants that were left were the cook, Chapeau, Lumiere, Plumette and a few maids. He also believed that Madame Garderobe and Maestro Cadenza, as well as Froufrou were still hanging around somewhere. Cogsworth had wanted to stay, but his wife carted him off. The head of the household didn't seem too happy about that.

The Prince still didn't have time to change his clothes, he had been too busy seeing to everyone's needs to worry about what he was wearing. And since it was now night time, it seemed worthless to get changed now. He'd have to scour through his wardrobe to find something to wear in the morning.

The castle was dark, silent and still. The majority of the candles had been put out, leaving only the light from the silver moon shining in through the windows to guide him. Adam was getting ready for bed, but before he went and hit the hay, he decided to venture over to the East Wing to find Belle, as that's where he assumed he would find her.

The door to her room was shut, and there was no light streaming out from beneath it. Had she already gone to bed? He decided to open the door just a little bit and peek inside, just to make sure.

Her bed was empty, in fact it didn't have any sheets on it, but it didn't take him very long to locate her as his eyes darted across the darkened room. Belle was sitting on the window sill, white bed sheets draped across and wrapped around her body as she stared outside.

Adam opened the door fully and knocked, making his presence known. "Hello." He greeted with a smile.

Belle glanced over at him, the silver moonlight illuminating her face. He liked the way it made her skin glow. She gave him a blank expression for a few seconds, almost as if she was staring right through him, before her tired eyes suddenly lit up and a small smile formed on her lips. "Hello." She greeted softly.

The Prince stepped into her room and walked over to her, but stopped halfway. "I was wondering if you would maybe like to sleep with me in my bed tonight?" He asked her. "You don't have to obviously, we can take it slow, just one day at a time if you prefer." He quickly added.

"I'd like that very much." She responded. The smile on her face faded, and she went back to staring out of the window. Her shoulders sagged and she sighed. Her body language seemed to contradict her statement.

"Is something wrong?" He asked concernedly.

She quickly turned back to him. "It's nothing, I just..." She trailed off for a moment. "I'm just having a hard time getting used to it, that's all. Whenever I see you, for a few seconds I forget who you are, and it feels like you're a complete stranger to me, but then I look at your eyes... And I remember."

"I know it's a lot to take in. I only just turned human this morning, so it's bound to be a little jarring." Adam responded. He had expected her to feel at least a little bit uneasy around him after such a drastic change in appearance. "I'm sorry. I know this is strange for you... I'm not the person you feel in love with."

Belle sat up straight. "You don't have to apologise. I just... I think about who you were and what you used to look like, and then I look at you now and it's almost like you and the beast were two completely different people. But then I see the way you act and the way you move and the way you talk and... It's you. It will always be you." She stated. "Whether you're a beast or a human, it doesn't matter what you look like... I'll always love you."

His heart skipped a beat. He felt like it was going to jump up into his throat. "To be honest... I'm finding it a little strange too." He admitted. "I keep thinking that any second now, or tomorrow morning I'm going to wake up, and all of this would have been a dream... That I'll be alone again, and I'll be trapped in that body."

Belle got up and crossed the room in a matter of seconds. She was holding the bed sheets around herself, but moved one hand to touch his face. She ran her thumb along his cheek. "Hey, look at me. You're not dreaming. I'm real, you're real, all of this is real." She told him comfortingly. "You're not alone anymore. I'm here, and I'll always be here." She lifted her other hand and cupped his face. "You've been living in a nightmare that you haven't been able to wake up from. I may not have been there for all of it, I may not have been there at your worst... But you were strong, you kept fighting, and you carried on when there were so many times you could have given up. And now you're free, you don't have to go through any of that ever again."

He could feel his eyes welling up with tears. "I fear that it's going to haunt me for the rest of my life." He whispered. "You don't know how happy I am to be human again, I don't think any amount of words would ever do it justice... But I thought that everything would return to normal, that all the pain and the hurting would go away, but... It hasn't. I thought I had gotten better, I thought I had fixed everything... but I'm still broken. And... I'm scared. The future still seems so uncertain." He told her, his voice cracking. A tear ran down his face, which Belle wiped away with her thumb.

"You are better. You went from being a cruel, uncaring beast, to a merciful, loving human, trapped inside of that creature. And now you're human, and that matches who you are on the inside. But what you went through was still traumatic, I doubt anyone would be able to come out unscathed. I can't promise it will get better straight away. I need time to adjust and you need time to heal. Eventually, it will get better, and in a few years all it will just be a bad dream." She told him. "And we'll get through this together. That I can promise."

Adam lifted his hand and touched her's. He let out a shaky sigh of relief and closed his eyes, savouring her touch. He then opened them again and stared into Belle's brown orbs, and he managed to form a weak smile. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." She responded, smiling warmly.

She then embraced him in a hug, which he accepted. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her head. "I can cuddle you in bed and keep you warm. And that will hopefully keep any nightmares away." She told him.

"I feel safe whenever I'm with you." He stated. "I doubt I'll be having any bad dreams tonight."

They pulled away from each other, and Adam glanced at the bed sheets she was wearing as she adjusted them. "Are you... Wearing anything under that?" He questioned.

Belle blushed and smiled gingerly, quickly pulling the sheet over her mouth as she spoke. "No." She responded, her voice a little muffled.

He laughed. "You're almost as bad as me! We can't have you walking over to the West Wing like that." He commented. Before she could say anything else, he scooped her up in his arms. She let out a surprised gasp as he lifted her up and kissed her on the neck. "You don't mind if I carry you to bed?"

"If you're up for the task." She replied, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

He smiled. "Let's go."

And with that, he carried Belle out of her room and over to the West Wing. He was ready to dive into bed and snuggle up to Belle under the wine red sheets.

Her words rang in his ears. She was right, he couldn't expect it to get better in a day. It would take time for him to come to terms with what he had been through, so that he could face his demons and eventually move on. But he had a feeling that as long as Belle was with him, he would be able to do and overcome anything.

* * *

 **A/N - It was hard, characterising the Prince post transformation. I didn't think all of his insecurities would immediately go away just because he was human. I also didn't want Belle to be used to him straight away either, as it was bound to be a bit jarring.**

 **I made his realisation that he was human mirror that of when he realised he was a beast way back in chapter 2, to bring it full circle.**

 **Tomorrow's chapter is the last one. This... has been a journey, I'm looking forward to showing you the finale.**


	33. Chapter 32 - Their Happy Ending

**Chapter 32 - Their Happy Ending**

It had been a week since everything had returned to a sense of normality. It felt like it had been much longer.

The castle grounds and doors were open, allowing villagers to go in and out as they pleased in order to visit family and friends. Despite the fact that the villagers had all rallied against him and had stormed the castle just to kill him, the Prince held no grudge against them. He couldn't really blame them for wanting him dead when he was a beast, the fear of the unknown can be very powerful. Besides, they had all expressed guilt for what they had done, and each one of them had apologised in some shape or form, so they had been forgiven. Belle had also been able to forgive them for their treatment of her when she lived in the village.

Maurice had moved in, along with all of his paintings and music boxes. The Prince had given him his father's old study, and told Maurice that he could convert it into his own personal art room. Maurice had protested at first, but had eventually accepted his offer. It was about time that room got some use.

Philippe had moved in permanently as well. They changed the name that was displayed on his stall from Jean to Philippe, and the Prince would help Belle tend to him. He also slipped Philippe carrots whenever Belle wasn't looking, as he still owed the poor horse for listening to him go on about his feelings. The couple then rode Philippe together, galloping beyond the castle and the woods and across the hillside. It felt good to ride a horse again, as well as having the sun on his skin and the wind in his hair. He liked to sit behind Belle and let her take the reins, but she let him handle driving Philippe a couple of times. The Prince enjoyed it when she sat behind him and wrapped her arms around him, leaning her head against his back.

Adam and Belle had started reading to each other. He had begun reading Guinevere and Lancelot to her, which she was highly invested in. They also took annual walks in the garden and admired the colourful flowers that were no longer covered in frost. They also took turns quoting lines to each other. Belle had also managed to build the washing machine she had been talking about, and he got to see it in action. It functioned really well, and now the servants used it to wash clothes, instead of doing it by hand. Adam congratulated her for doing such a fine job, which she humbly accepted, and thanked him for taking a huge interest in her inventions.

A few days ago, he had gathered all of the servants into a room and informed them of his father's demise before the curse had been placed upon them. He also told them that he was the rightful heir to the throne, and that it was only a matter of time before he was crowned King.

Was he prepared for this? Not in the slightest. To go from being a beast to a Prince and then to a King in such a short amount of time was going to weigh heavily on him. But it didn't really matter if he was ready or not. He just hoped that he would be able to stay true to himself once he was crowned. He didn't want to turn into his father.

The Prince had also taken a trip to his mother's grave, to discover that the tombstone had been fixed. He guessed that the Enchantress had something to do with the restoration of his mother's final resting place, which he was grateful for. Belle had accompanied him and laid down a bouquet of white roses they had arranged together for his mother. Belle had then embraced him in a comforting hug while they stood there on the hilltop. He wished she could have met Belle. He wished she could have seen how happy Belle made him feel. He hoped that his mother was proud of him, whether she may be.

In the span of a week, he had also started wearing proper clothes, instead of walking around in a state of undress. He had to have at least some standards, as well as set an example. He certainly didn't visit his mother's grave in what he had been wearing when he turned back into a human.

He had taken to wearing a similar style of clothing that he had worn when he was a beast, a long jacket and floral pattern shirt and simple trousers. He also liked wearing the colour blue, instead of the black clothing he often wore before the curse. He also started wearing shoes again, as walking around bare foot wasn't working out, not in the same way as it did when he had paws for feet. He also considered cutting his hair, but decided to leave it, as he liked it long, and would occasionally comb it back into a ponytail or just leave it hanging loosely.

Aside from reading to one another, Adam and Belle spent the majority of each day together, almost every waking hour. They enjoyed each other's company a great deal, and couldn't bear to be apart for very long. It occurred to him that the love they shared between them had grown even stronger, which he had previously thought wasn't even possible. Their bond was unbreakable.

And now, there was something very important he wanted to do. It had been on his mind for the last few days, but he had told himself to give it more time and to not rush into anything. But he couldn't wait anymore.

It was the current day, and they were both taking another walk through the garden, although neither of them were carrying a book this time. It had proven rather difficult to get Belle to put a book down, but he had eventually succeeded without arousing too much suspicion from her. It was a hot summer's day, the sun was high in crystal blue sky, beating down on them with an extensive amount of heat. The Prince had abandoned his outer layer jacket as he still hadn't adjusted to this kind of temperature, while Belle seemed perfectly fine with it. Then again, she was wearing a sleeveless red dress, so she was bound to feel much cooler.

Eventually, they reached the bridge that went over the frozen lake, where she had read that collection of poems by William Sharp to him. Only, the lake wasn't frozen anymore, it was the exact opposite in fact. They stopped at the centre of the bridge and watched as pond skaters glided across the surface of the water, and dragonflies swooped down to nestle on the long grass growing at the water's edge. A light breeze rushed passed them, causing the lake to ripple.

The Prince rested his hands on the wall of the bridge and stared off into the distance at the sloping hills. Belle stood beside him and stared at the lake, most likely admiring the way the light from the sun reflected off of it. He caught her looking up at him in the corner of his eye.

"You've been looking a lot better lately." She commented.

Adam turned to look at her. "I feel a lot better too." He replied. "You made that possible. You just being here has helped me a great deal." He added. "I still have a long way to go but I'm getting there... Slowly but surely."

"You'll get there. I know you will."

The two went quiet for a moment. Adam stared at the lake for a bit before glancing back at Belle. "I've been thinking..." He began.

"What about?" She asked.

He had her full attention now. "After being cooped up in this castle for so long... I don't want to spend the rest of my life here. I'll have royal duties to attend to, of course, but I'd like to go and see the world, whenever I get the chance. I want to get on a boat and set sail on the high seas, travel to the furthest corners of the globe, explore uncharted territories. I don't want to waste a second." He told her. "But... I don't want to do it alone. I want someone to go with me."

He would have suggested using the enchanted book, but that had disappeared, along with the enchanted mirror, most likely because he had no use for them anymore.

"You want someone to go with you on the adventure of a life time?" She asked, a small smile beginning to form on her face that was slowly getting wider. She was smart, he knew that she would be able to guess where this was going.

"Yes. But I don't want just anyone to go with me." He took hold of her hand in both of his and squeezed it gently. "I want it to be you." He stated. "I want it to be... My wife."

Belle's eyes widened in shock and amazement. She didn't see that part of the conversation coming. Her mouth fell open and she looked like she was lost for words as he went down on one knee. "Belle... You make me so happy. I've never loved anyone more than I love you. Will you do me the honour of making me the happiest man alive? Will you marry me?"

Belle stood in stunned silence. She looked like she was trying to speak, but nothing was coming out of her mouth. After a few seconds, she finally got her voice back. "Yes, yes I will!" She cried, throwing her arms around him. She nearly knocked him off his feet, but he managed to stay balanced and hugged her back.

"First thing we'll do is take a trip to England and I'll take you to the Globe theatre to see Romeo and Juliet." He told her. "Although, they might have some competition... As I think we're a better couple of star crossed lovers."

Belle pulled away from the hug and laughed whilst shaking her head. "You had to work that quote in there, didn't you?"

"I couldn't help myself." He replied.

She immediately pulled him back into the hug and kissed him on the cheek. Their lips eventually managed to meet and the engaged couple continued to hug and kiss on that lonely bridge under the hot summer sun.

The wedding rolled around quicker than expected. It was upon him before he even realised it. A month just seemed to fly by. Belle looked absolutely stunning in her white wedding gown, as well as the long glittering veil that trailed behind her. Her brown locks were done up in a bunch, pinned there using small white flowers as a hair piece. The skirt of her gown didn't meet the floor, but it was layered, and had a floral pattern on the skirt as well as the waist and sleeves, which was made up of several pink and orange flowers, as well as their swirling green stalks that were stitched into the fabric. They almost looked real. Adam was wearing a light blue jacket that ran down to his knees. It had its own floral pattern stitched into it in a slightly lighter shade of blue. The front of the jacket had sliver stitches running around the buttons, and the waist coat he was wearing underneath had similar sliver stitches, that were stitched into a pattern that looked like the stalk of a flower. This silver pattern could also be found on the turned up cuffs of his sleeves. Around his neck he wore a white cravat. His trousers were a light blue, mixed with grey, and although they ended at his knees, his long white socks covered the rest of his legs. His light blue shoes were buckled and also had tall heels. To finish off his look, his long blonde hair was tied back into a ponytail using a blue ribbon. It resembled the ballroom attire he wore when he danced with Belle for the first time.

The ceremony was incredible. They had it in the garden, with rows and rows of chairs arranged for guests to sit. All of the villagers turned up, with the men wearing black clothing, whilst the women wore white. The altar was on a pedestal, under an archway made up of flowers. The look on Belle's face when she joined him under the archway and he lifted up her veil... He would never forget it. She was glowing in the sunlight, her brown eyes beaming with happiness. She couldn't stop smiling. Neither could he.

They said their vows and put on their rings. But that wasn't the end of it, far from it, as after the ceremony was complete, and they were announced husband and wife, Belle took off her veil, and he offered her his hand, and they headed to the ballroom, with the guests in tow.

The ballroom had traded its candles for dozens upon dozens of flowers, all neatly arranged in baskets and bouquets, as well as hanging over head along with the crystal chandeliers. The flowers above and around them were many different colours, there were pink ones and yellow ones and white ones, all of which were pleasing to the eye. The aroma coming from them was both wonderful and overpowering to the senses. Adam and Belle walked to the centre of the room, while some of the guests sprawled out to the far corners, and others linked up with a partner. Even the servants were getting involved, Lumiere had linked up with Plumette, and Cogsworth was with his wife.

It was time for their first dance.

Madame Garderobe and Maestro Cadenza were in position, ready to perform, just like they did all those years ago, when all of this began. Along with the Maestro's piano, they had other musical accompaniment, consisting of several stringed instruments being played by talented musicians. He also caught sight of Maurice, who was planning on painting a picture of the whole event as it happened.

Once everyone was ready, Madame Garderobe, who was cuddling Froufrou, began to sing. She was singing the same song Mrs Potts sang when he and Belle danced to when he was a beast.

 _Tale as old as time, tune as old as song_

 _Bittersweet and strange, finding you can change, learning you were wrong_

Adam and Belle began to dance together, taking each other's hand, while she placed the other hand on his arm, and he wrapped his around her waist. They took two steps forwards and a couple of steps back, keeping eye contact as the villagers and servants danced around them, the whole room completely in sync.

The couple parted, swirling around each other, before Adam took hold of her hand again and allowed her to do a twirl, her beautiful, flowery dress spinning along with her.

The music grew softer and there was an absent of the piano, as Mrs Potts chimed in with the song.

 _Winter turns to spring, famine turns to feast_

 _Nature points the way, nothing left to say_

 _Beauty and the Beast_

Adam and Belle lifted up their hands, moving them around the other in their own sort of dance as they moved round in a circle.

The other dancers moved to the edges of the room, to admire the couple and allow them to dance alone. The bride and groom didn't notice as they were too focus on each other.

Adam offered her his hand, which she gladly took, and they slowly moved round in a circle once more, their arms outstretched.

"I've been meaning to ask..." She began.

"What's that?" He replied.

"How would you feel about growing a beard?" She asked him, a smile crossing her face.

Adam grinned and growled playfully at her. What came out of his mouth was reminiscent of the noises he used to be able to make when he was a beast, that stunned both of them.

They both laughed in surprise. "I'll take that as a no." She responded in disbelief, still reeling from the shock.

They drew closer to one another. He wrapped his arm around her waist and leaned forwards to whisper in her ear. "I'll see what I can do. I didn't actually mind having a beard, or whatever that was growing on my face." He couldn't blame her for wanting a sense of familiarity, she was bound to miss the beast, even though he and the beast had been one in the same.

"Extra fur?" She questioned.

"Probably." He replied. "You never know, I might forget to pack my shaving comb when we go travelling." He teased.

"With the amount of books we'll be carrying you probably won't be able to fit anything else in our luggage." She commented.

Adam pulled away and allowed her to do another twirl, before pulling her closer to him again. "Did you know you could still growl like that?"

"I had no idea." He admitted. "Should we be concerned?"

"I don't think so. Besides... I think it's cute." She told him.

They both laughed again, as Belle bowed to him and he lovingly kissed her hand. The music grew louder and Madame Garderobe began to sing once again.

 _Certain as the sun, rising in the east_

 _Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme_

 _Beauty and the Beast_

Adam lifted Belle up by her waist and held her high above his head, the skirt of her dress surrounding his arms as he spun around, holding her up in the air. He gazed up at her face, the sunlight coming in from the windows giving her a heavenly glow. He carefully put her back on the ground, and as soon as her feet touched the floor, they began to dance again, waltzing around in a circle, before she did another twirl.

 _Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme_

 _Beauty and the Beast_

They pressed their foreheads together, their lips inches apart. They both closed the gap and kissed, and in that moment, he knew that there was nowhere else he'd rather be than in that ballroom with her.

She was everything to him. The light of his life, his hopes, his dreams. She gave him the strength to carry on, to live, to accomplish the goals he set himself and chase after the things he wanted most from life. She had saved him from himself, and for that he was eternally grateful. The beast was gone, all thanks to her, although it was unlikely that either of them would ever forget that part of himself. He didn't mind that lingering after thought all that much. In a way, the beast would always be part of him, as much as he had been a part of it. He was thankful, in way, for being turned into that creature. Meeting Belle had made all those years of torment and suffering worth it, just to see her smiling face. He would never stop telling her how much he loved her, nor would he stop showing her through the little things he did every day.

He knew that no matter what life threw at them, they would be able to make it through the trials and tribulations. Their love would withstand the test of time and last...

Forever.

* * *

 **A/N - And so we bring this story to a close. This chapter was important to me, I wanted to make sure that everything I wrote was wrapped up nicely in a neat little bow. To give them a happy ending. I also wanted to combine the original ending and the remake, by having the guests dance with them for a little while, before having the Prince and Belle dance alone, to make it both a huge celebration, and have some close intimacy. A special moment between just the two of them.**

 **This has been an absolute joy to write and share with you all. When I first conceived the idea of expanding upon Beast's backstory and the years he spent alone, I never thought I would write the movie plot as well from his perspective, but I'm glad I did. Expanding on his and Belle's relationship was great.**

 **I honestly didn't think I'd be able to finish such a project, as I often lose motivation halfway through and give up. I suppose my passion and fasnisation with Beast's character and his development helped me see this through to the end.**

 **So, a few closing statements from me before I have to love you and leave you. I'd liked to say a big thank you to everyone that has read, reviewed, favourited and followed this story. I've noticed quite a few people that have been here since the very beginning, and others that have nearly reviewed every single chapter, like kunoichi418, mmusicjuliet, theodor10 (a good friend of mine who I appreciate being here!), Jznna1010. Not to mention the countless guest reviewers like Cress, Guitarist Girl, Audrey. But we'd be here all day if I named all of you. Just know that I appreciate every single one of you, whether I named you or not. Thank you for sticking with me, and thank you for all your positivity. I hope you share your thoughts about this final chapter and what you thought of the whole story overall now that you've read all of it. I'd really like to see.**

 **I'm not sure if I will ever write a sequel of what happens after the curse is broken, but if I ever get a solid idea, then I definitely will. As for the alternate ending and mini story I've mentioned before, I've been thinking about it, and whether or not it will actually happen is up in the air at the moment. But perhaps you will see a follow up from me at some point. I'd like to think so.**

 **If anyone with an account wants to PM me and ask about anything or just want to have a chat with me about the story then feel free to, I'll be happy to talk to you.**

 **EDIT: Here's something I forgot to mention. Not sure if any of you will read this but I wanted to give you a little fun fact. I only had to consult the movie four times, firstly for the Prince's dance with the maidens in the beginning, then much later on for Beast and Belle's ballroom dance, then for the fight between Beast and Gaston (although not a whole lot, I just had to make sure how many towers Beast jumped to and what Gaston attacked him with and where) and then the final dance with Adam and Belle. Everything else I did from memory. It was mostly just choreography I needed as it's somethimes hard to remember every single dance move they did.**

 **And that's about all I have to say. Thank you all once again for all the love and support. You all really are the best.**

 **See you around!**


End file.
